ten years since pappy shank died. i realized it during the 10th anniversary of september 11th. when those attacks happened pappy said they were coming after the shanks. he wasn't a conspiracy theorist, that was just his sense of humor, since one of the planes went down in shanksville.
i can't believe he’s been gone ten years. but then i may have a tendency to dramatize things. a few days after pappy died my brother and i were driving somewhere and i wasn't crying, but certainly talking colby’s ear off as i verbally processed everything and i said, "it's just so sad, he was so young!" brother bear hadn’t been saying much up to that point, but then he blurted out, "chelsea he was 75! what are you talking about!" we started laughing because colby was right. pappy wasn’t that young, and he wasn’t a picture of health, but it was still devastating.
growing up i had a strange preoccupation with death. i was obsessed with keeping diaries and journals, but what made those so strange was that i wrote out my will in the back of each one. full of essential details like "give my american girl magazines to melissa" and "bury me by the tulips."
i was in eighth grade when pappy died, so perhaps the combination of my age and personality intensified the way that the death of a loved one can affect anyone. i guess feeling so close to pappy is why it really impacted me. i felt like i was just starting to get to know him and then he was gone. when he died and everyone finally talked about him and the memories they had i felt even more jipped. there was a whole side of pappy that i never knew, an entire life i had no idea about.
hearing everyone talk about him confused me, and made me want to make sure that i always always told people how much they meant to me. i felt like pappy would have had no idea that so many people would say so many incredible things about him after he died. so why didn't they say it when he was alive? and maybe they did. i was little, i wasn't always around him.
when my brother and i spent weekends with our dad we usually hung out at grandma and pappy's for awhile. colby controlled the tv and playing boggle with grandma shank is only entertaining for so long, so eventually i decided to be brave and start hanging out with pappy.
i was so curious. it seemed like everyone was afraid of him. he was this giant that you didn't want to mess with or upset. i felt a sense of fear and awe. he scowled a lot. at family get-togethers he wasn't the patriarchal norman rockwell grandfather saying the prayer or welcoming everyone, he was off napping or pretending to be.
pappy had a beautiful face. i should say handsome, but when i think of his face i picture him laughing. and he had a fantastic laugh. a big deep drawn out belly laugh, and sometimes it sounded like he was choking, i could never be sure. maybe he was. he smoked his whole life and while his own dad and grandpa never smoked, he said that they died young anyway and missed out on all that pleasure.
it’s easy for me to remember him smiling, or laughing at me. and saying "ohhh" in a scowling but shy way. sometimes he'd scowl like that when he didn't want to answer whatever question i'd just asked him, but not because he was angry. i think he just didn't want to be open. i think he had a very sensitive heart and felt like he had to hide that, so he did.
i spent hours in the basement with him putting jigsaw puzzles together. when we finished puzzles i would be really excited (of course) and he would laugh at me. then he’d say let’s tear it apart and i’d protest. i knew he was secretly thrilled too and i had to be enthusiastic enough for both of us.
when grandma sang or yelled down the steps that supper was ready he'd act like he didn't hear her half the time. i'd scamper upstairs and say he was coming. sometimes grandma would get tired of waiting and we'd say silent grace and start to eat before he came shuffling in. he'd scowl if there was pizza on the table because he hated pizza, but grandma, the most amazing wife, always had a separate meal of meat, potatoes and vegetables prepared for him.
one time grandma and my dad both seemed concerned about pappy. something about a surgery the doctors thought he should have, but he didn't want to. i didn't want him to die so i set out making him a list of 101 reasons to get the heart valve the doctors were telling him to.
that list wasn't as easy to write as you might think. for most people there would be scads of things to include. for instance, i could name 101 foods alone that would be worth staying alive for, and pizza would definitely be one of them. for pappy, it was harder to figure out what would truly motivate him to stay alive.
the list was silly. i wrote down every family member he had, so that took up half the slots and then i got creative with things like "the clock needs fixed,” “hauling the amish,” or "who will we ask to ride the five-wheeler?"
i forget if i gave him the list face-to-face or was a scaredy cat and left it lying on the counter for him to read later, but he loved it.
he got the heart valve. and i hated calling him in the hospital (but a genuine thanks for making me, mom.) and visiting him in the hospital (and a not so genuine thanks for making me go in the room first "in case he's dead" dad!). next pappy needed to get open heart surgery, and he died a few days later. or something like that, i'm not good with logical details.
it took all ten of his husky (classic grandma shank word) grandsons to carry his casket. i don't know if they shuffled so slow out of reverence or trying not to trip, or because it was just that heavy. pappy's beloved amish friends didn't speak at the funeral, but they gathered at the cemetery and shoveled his grave full of dirt, telling stories about him while they worked. they loved benny shank.
someone stuck a liter of pepsi in the ground with him. he loved his pepsi. i don’t like soda, but the other day i talked my way into a sales position with pepsi. i have no interest in this AT ALL and after i left the job fair where i met the pepsi rep i was laughing at myself trying to figure out how that even happened. maybe it was just to give pappy a good laugh, or maybe he set it up so i’d remember him yet again – but i could never forget him.
i hope pappy shank knew how much i loved him. i wish he was still around. he'd be really proud of colby - my brother reminds me so much of pappy. i tell myself he'd be proud of me too. he wouldn't be surprised i'm pursuing journalism - i fired questions away at him like a pistol. maybe he'd come to my college graduation in a van and drive home super slow with a long line of traffic behind him while he smoked and nearly fell asleep.
i wonder what he'd have to say to me now. i imagine him meeting my boyfriend and saying something pithy. then he’d laugh with with his whole body shaking and eyes disappearing, leathered skin scrunched into a big smile. his smile drew people in. he was a magnet, and - my favorite comment from someone at his funeral – “an icon in the community.”
i can't believe he’s been gone ten years. but then i may have a tendency to dramatize things. a few days after pappy died my brother and i were driving somewhere and i wasn't crying, but certainly talking colby’s ear off as i verbally processed everything and i said, "it's just so sad, he was so young!" brother bear hadn’t been saying much up to that point, but then he blurted out, "chelsea he was 75! what are you talking about!" we started laughing because colby was right. pappy wasn’t that young, and he wasn’t a picture of health, but it was still devastating.
growing up i had a strange preoccupation with death. i was obsessed with keeping diaries and journals, but what made those so strange was that i wrote out my will in the back of each one. full of essential details like "give my american girl magazines to melissa" and "bury me by the tulips."
i was in eighth grade when pappy died, so perhaps the combination of my age and personality intensified the way that the death of a loved one can affect anyone. i guess feeling so close to pappy is why it really impacted me. i felt like i was just starting to get to know him and then he was gone. when he died and everyone finally talked about him and the memories they had i felt even more jipped. there was a whole side of pappy that i never knew, an entire life i had no idea about.
hearing everyone talk about him confused me, and made me want to make sure that i always always told people how much they meant to me. i felt like pappy would have had no idea that so many people would say so many incredible things about him after he died. so why didn't they say it when he was alive? and maybe they did. i was little, i wasn't always around him.
when my brother and i spent weekends with our dad we usually hung out at grandma and pappy's for awhile. colby controlled the tv and playing boggle with grandma shank is only entertaining for so long, so eventually i decided to be brave and start hanging out with pappy.
i was so curious. it seemed like everyone was afraid of him. he was this giant that you didn't want to mess with or upset. i felt a sense of fear and awe. he scowled a lot. at family get-togethers he wasn't the patriarchal norman rockwell grandfather saying the prayer or welcoming everyone, he was off napping or pretending to be.
pappy had a beautiful face. i should say handsome, but when i think of his face i picture him laughing. and he had a fantastic laugh. a big deep drawn out belly laugh, and sometimes it sounded like he was choking, i could never be sure. maybe he was. he smoked his whole life and while his own dad and grandpa never smoked, he said that they died young anyway and missed out on all that pleasure.
it’s easy for me to remember him smiling, or laughing at me. and saying "ohhh" in a scowling but shy way. sometimes he'd scowl like that when he didn't want to answer whatever question i'd just asked him, but not because he was angry. i think he just didn't want to be open. i think he had a very sensitive heart and felt like he had to hide that, so he did.
i spent hours in the basement with him putting jigsaw puzzles together. when we finished puzzles i would be really excited (of course) and he would laugh at me. then he’d say let’s tear it apart and i’d protest. i knew he was secretly thrilled too and i had to be enthusiastic enough for both of us.
when grandma sang or yelled down the steps that supper was ready he'd act like he didn't hear her half the time. i'd scamper upstairs and say he was coming. sometimes grandma would get tired of waiting and we'd say silent grace and start to eat before he came shuffling in. he'd scowl if there was pizza on the table because he hated pizza, but grandma, the most amazing wife, always had a separate meal of meat, potatoes and vegetables prepared for him.
one time grandma and my dad both seemed concerned about pappy. something about a surgery the doctors thought he should have, but he didn't want to. i didn't want him to die so i set out making him a list of 101 reasons to get the heart valve the doctors were telling him to.
that list wasn't as easy to write as you might think. for most people there would be scads of things to include. for instance, i could name 101 foods alone that would be worth staying alive for, and pizza would definitely be one of them. for pappy, it was harder to figure out what would truly motivate him to stay alive.
the list was silly. i wrote down every family member he had, so that took up half the slots and then i got creative with things like "the clock needs fixed,” “hauling the amish,” or "who will we ask to ride the five-wheeler?"
i forget if i gave him the list face-to-face or was a scaredy cat and left it lying on the counter for him to read later, but he loved it.
he got the heart valve. and i hated calling him in the hospital (but a genuine thanks for making me, mom.) and visiting him in the hospital (and a not so genuine thanks for making me go in the room first "in case he's dead" dad!). next pappy needed to get open heart surgery, and he died a few days later. or something like that, i'm not good with logical details.
it took all ten of his husky (classic grandma shank word) grandsons to carry his casket. i don't know if they shuffled so slow out of reverence or trying not to trip, or because it was just that heavy. pappy's beloved amish friends didn't speak at the funeral, but they gathered at the cemetery and shoveled his grave full of dirt, telling stories about him while they worked. they loved benny shank.
someone stuck a liter of pepsi in the ground with him. he loved his pepsi. i don’t like soda, but the other day i talked my way into a sales position with pepsi. i have no interest in this AT ALL and after i left the job fair where i met the pepsi rep i was laughing at myself trying to figure out how that even happened. maybe it was just to give pappy a good laugh, or maybe he set it up so i’d remember him yet again – but i could never forget him.
i hope pappy shank knew how much i loved him. i wish he was still around. he'd be really proud of colby - my brother reminds me so much of pappy. i tell myself he'd be proud of me too. he wouldn't be surprised i'm pursuing journalism - i fired questions away at him like a pistol. maybe he'd come to my college graduation in a van and drive home super slow with a long line of traffic behind him while he smoked and nearly fell asleep.
i wonder what he'd have to say to me now. i imagine him meeting my boyfriend and saying something pithy. then he’d laugh with with his whole body shaking and eyes disappearing, leathered skin scrunched into a big smile. his smile drew people in. he was a magnet, and - my favorite comment from someone at his funeral – “an icon in the community.”
ephraim benjamin shank
may 18, 1926 - nov. 8, 2001
3 comments:
oh. i love it girl. you are so good with words. so good, that i am sitting here crying a little bit. life is a wonder, isn't it? :) missy.
This is wonderful Chels! I miss him too! I agree completely -- it's so important to let people know how you feel about them BEFORE their funeral! You're so good at putting your thoughts into words!
Love,
Ang
This is great! You are blessed with a gift of writing..I loved reading every word and learning things about Grandpa I never knew :) Thanks for the Memories..love Ya! Rita
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