I remember it like it was yesterday; Thirty thousand feet up in the air, flying doesn’t scar me, I enjoy it. Maybe out of habit, or some obsessive compulsive thing, I always, without fail drink a tomato juice in the air. With ice that has holes in it. (The kind you can only find on an airplane) People around me are on there way to see family for thanksgiving, and technically that’s what I am doing. I just have another purpose in mind. I have never faced death, at least in my immediate family, and I was nervous; because that is what I was on my way to Reno to do, to say good bye to a loved one.
Curtis Alden Chase is his name, he is my grandpa. Not biologically, but for my whole life none the less. He is a crabby old man to the naked eye, but when looked at more closely, you begin to see the wonderful things that make him who he is, a tender, loving man, with a sarcastic, cynical shell. This shell that evidently takes a long time to crack! Curtis was then a tender old man, now, who still wore his pants at a un fashionable height, to his belly button. The pictures on the wall behind him show a younger Grandpa, tall dark and handsome, its clear to see how my grandma fell for him all those years ago.
It is so ironic how as kids you see what you want to see. “Grandpa is my grandpa, nothing else.” But over the years, I have discovered a lot about Curtis Chase that I did not know. He has always been a genius with computers, built them, worked for a major software company, creating software, he amazed me. Growing up in a different time in a little Texas town, Curtis saw the world in a different way then my generation did. Feelings were not something that were to be discussed. Work was the essence of life, the meaning of it, and he had a job to do. He was taught, whether by accident or on purpose I do not know, to take the world literally. So literally, that, to some people, he came off as bitter. Not to me though. I always saw him as a teddy bear. I remember back to my fifth grade year in school, I was a theater kid, always in a play. Grandpa was gracious enough to drive me thirty minutes every day to play practice, in his rusty old bronco. One of the times that sticks out most in my mind, was our disagreements on music. Curtis was not a man of many words, so therefore, he enjoyed the silence. I however, could not ever be quiet and insisted on some sort of radio being played on our long daily trips. At first, AM stations were all that came out of that dusty un-used stereo. (To this day, I can listen to talk radio politics, and be entertained) Slowly, the dial changed to country music, and after a while, I had the conservative Curtis Chase listening to top forty, and liking it! One night, after my play, Grandpa, my mom, grandma, and I went out to dinner, and one of those now old school tunes came on over head. I will never forget the next thing I heard! MY grandpa turned to me and said, “Oh, I s this real Slim Shady?” He knew Eminem; my fifth grade mission was accomplished.
Flash back to the present, and I am sitting with him, he is clearly fading fast, talking about his favorite memories. With a little persuasion, he agrees to let me rub his swollen feet. He told me stories of rough housing with his brother and he, and again, like a child, I’m reminded that grandpa was also little once. Like me, he went to college to get an education. At this time, the United States was in the Cold War, trying to beat Russia in every technological way possible, therefore, my grandpa, who was an amazingly gifted programmer, received a government grant from the President himself to attend all eight years of college at a well known Florida university. Hearing this story is literally awesome to me. My grandpa helped win the Cold WAR! Some while later, he met my grandma, Joyce Valera. An eccentric, creative, a tune person, my grandma is the exact opposite of grandpa, and it showed all the time. Watching their marriage as a growing child I found there arguments confusing, but I took comfort in the fact that I knew they loved each other. They loved each other, and that’s all I needed to know. He recalls his favorite memory, on a date with my grandma, at a Willey Nelson Concert, and “everyone was smoking marijuana! It was great!”
I was over whelmed with tears as I realized it was time to say goodbye, I had to catch my flight home, and I f the doctors predicted correctly, he would be gone in a few days. I traced his hand, so I could always hold it, and he wrote me a note, that was almost non legible. My grandpa, a man of few words, told me for the very first time out loud, that he loved me too. I hate goodbyes, so to avoid this, instead I told him, I’ll be seeing you, and I know that’s true. I smile as I think of what he’d say if he saw me being all emotional and professing how fantastic he is. He would say, “Maci, calm down, I lived my life, and did my job no big deal.” Nope, not to me grandpa, to me, you’re a super hero, “Always and forever.”
Curtis Alden Chase is his name, he is my grandpa. Not biologically, but for my whole life none the less. He is a crabby old man to the naked eye, but when looked at more closely, you begin to see the wonderful things that make him who he is, a tender, loving man, with a sarcastic, cynical shell. This shell that evidently takes a long time to crack! Curtis was then a tender old man, now, who still wore his pants at a un fashionable height, to his belly button. The pictures on the wall behind him show a younger Grandpa, tall dark and handsome, its clear to see how my grandma fell for him all those years ago.
It is so ironic how as kids you see what you want to see. “Grandpa is my grandpa, nothing else.” But over the years, I have discovered a lot about Curtis Chase that I did not know. He has always been a genius with computers, built them, worked for a major software company, creating software, he amazed me. Growing up in a different time in a little Texas town, Curtis saw the world in a different way then my generation did. Feelings were not something that were to be discussed. Work was the essence of life, the meaning of it, and he had a job to do. He was taught, whether by accident or on purpose I do not know, to take the world literally. So literally, that, to some people, he came off as bitter. Not to me though. I always saw him as a teddy bear. I remember back to my fifth grade year in school, I was a theater kid, always in a play. Grandpa was gracious enough to drive me thirty minutes every day to play practice, in his rusty old bronco. One of the times that sticks out most in my mind, was our disagreements on music. Curtis was not a man of many words, so therefore, he enjoyed the silence. I however, could not ever be quiet and insisted on some sort of radio being played on our long daily trips. At first, AM stations were all that came out of that dusty un-used stereo. (To this day, I can listen to talk radio politics, and be entertained) Slowly, the dial changed to country music, and after a while, I had the conservative Curtis Chase listening to top forty, and liking it! One night, after my play, Grandpa, my mom, grandma, and I went out to dinner, and one of those now old school tunes came on over head. I will never forget the next thing I heard! MY grandpa turned to me and said, “Oh, I s this real Slim Shady?” He knew Eminem; my fifth grade mission was accomplished.
Flash back to the present, and I am sitting with him, he is clearly fading fast, talking about his favorite memories. With a little persuasion, he agrees to let me rub his swollen feet. He told me stories of rough housing with his brother and he, and again, like a child, I’m reminded that grandpa was also little once. Like me, he went to college to get an education. At this time, the United States was in the Cold War, trying to beat Russia in every technological way possible, therefore, my grandpa, who was an amazingly gifted programmer, received a government grant from the President himself to attend all eight years of college at a well known Florida university. Hearing this story is literally awesome to me. My grandpa helped win the Cold WAR! Some while later, he met my grandma, Joyce Valera. An eccentric, creative, a tune person, my grandma is the exact opposite of grandpa, and it showed all the time. Watching their marriage as a growing child I found there arguments confusing, but I took comfort in the fact that I knew they loved each other. They loved each other, and that’s all I needed to know. He recalls his favorite memory, on a date with my grandma, at a Willey Nelson Concert, and “everyone was smoking marijuana! It was great!”
I was over whelmed with tears as I realized it was time to say goodbye, I had to catch my flight home, and I f the doctors predicted correctly, he would be gone in a few days. I traced his hand, so I could always hold it, and he wrote me a note, that was almost non legible. My grandpa, a man of few words, told me for the very first time out loud, that he loved me too. I hate goodbyes, so to avoid this, instead I told him, I’ll be seeing you, and I know that’s true. I smile as I think of what he’d say if he saw me being all emotional and professing how fantastic he is. He would say, “Maci, calm down, I lived my life, and did my job no big deal.” Nope, not to me grandpa, to me, you’re a super hero, “Always and forever.”
