This week’s column was written by my wife in memory of her Grandpa who passed away December 6, 2010. Ray Kwasniewski was a good man and will be missed.

This December to remember has come with the loss of another grandparent and lies upon us like the cool white blanket on the landscape of a December winter. The snapshot of memories this December was brought on with the passing of my grandpa, Raymond Kwasniewski. It may be just a glimpse of his footsteps through life, but it is always good to walk in someone else’s shoes, if only for a moment.

In his 88 years of life Grandpa’s footsteps took him many places and saw and accomplished many things.

One step in Grandpa’s shoes would have given you the opportunity to see him serve for our country in the U.S. Army during WWII. Grandpa was stationed in Italy and North Africa during which he received a Purple Heart. A step that was emotional for my dad, who served in the US Army during the Vietnam War, was in giving the folded American Flag to my grandma at the conclusion of the funeral because Grandpa was his other dad, a fishing buddy, and a good friend.

The next step in Grandpa’s shoes would have shown you how he was a man of ingenuity and tinkering. He was the handyman of the farm. In my teens, I was in awe of the skills my grandpa had in his “tool belt” and what he could accomplish with a gum wrapper and some elbow grease. Grandma spoke with pride when she told us how Grandpa was a plumber, a carpenter, a mechanic, a roofer, and a farmer.

Of course, Grandpa had other skills such as being able to pin a handful of grandkids underneath him and rise like that of a phoenix from the ashes with the other handful of grandkids clinging onto his back. He even knew where all of us grandkids had our tickle spots and showed no mercy and would keep tickling us even if you told him you were about to pee in your pants.

Grandpa had numerous loves in life. The main one was Grandma and his children. The love for Grandma was obvious, and I fondly remember many occasions where Grandpa would corner her in the kitchen to sneak a kiss or two even though she protested with laughter. He never shied away from this display of affection towards Grandma even if any of us grandkids were around and we didn’t mind.

Grandpa set a good example of loving and showing the love of your life just how much you still enjoy those little moments. That is why I love sneaking those kisses with my husband in the kitchen even if the kids are around. Of course, the kids respond with the usually “Euwww” and “Do have to kiss in front of us?” Why yes we do!

Fishing was a love as well. My grandpa and my dad would head out after they received the secrets from other avid fisherman around town as to where the hot spots were. It didn’t matter what time of day it was as long as the chores and work were done, the two fishermen would set out to see if they could catch the big one, or two, or 3, or…

Many nights and Sunday afternoons were spent playing another love of Grandpa’s - a good card game. Unlike my grandma Esther, he played fair. Grandpa also loved to “shoot the moon” with a wing and a prayer during card games. I think he had an in with the card gods because seven out of ten times, Grandpa would win with his, “I had nothing to go on, but this ten and ace of hearts” hand. I love playing cards because of Grandpa and Grandma’s love to play. Unfortunately, my husband, like the “bored” games he wrote about in one of his previous Ramblings, doesn’t share this love of cards. At least, our son loves a good card or “bored” game.

The love of meat and potatoes for dinner and for supper is added to the list of my grandpa’s loves. He was a true farmer. I recall one time on the farm, I helped with supper and for some reason we decided to spice it up a little and made a different side dish. With supper on the table, Grandpa searched the table and asked, “Where are the potatoes?”

When Grandma and I informed him we made a pasta salad instead, he rebuked, “You can’t have meat without potatoes.” From then on, whenever I made supper on the farm, I made sure there were potatoes for Grandpa.

As mentioned earlier, Grandpa was a farmer. With any farm, you have your challenges, but Grandpa and Grandma didn’t have much of a challenge with their garden. Year after year, they would have an abundance of vegetables. My husband and I have not been blessed with the great yield of vegetables especially those potatoes. Our potato growing skills are very limited and we would not make it as French Canadian/Norwegian/German/Welsh/Polish potato farmers, but at least we try.

Those are some of the snapshots we remembered this past week with the passing of my grandpa. Christmas will be a little tough this year, but Grandpa is with the soldiers, fisherman, and farmers above and we have another December to Remember.