The following is a previously published column.
I never met one set of my grandparents, my mother’s parents, the late Amos Whitten Rogers and Elizabeth Mae Rogers of West Virginia.
Believe it or not, they were both born in 1875 – 144 years ago! They had 11 children, who were born from 1895 through 1917. My mother was born in 1911. She was 42 when I was born in 1953.
My maternal grandfather passed away in 1928 while my grandmother died in 1946 – seven years before I was born.
On the other hand, my father’s parents, Thomas Richardson and Nora Ona Biggs, were born in 1886 and 1891, respectively. He passed away in 1962 and she a year later in 1963.
When my mother passed away in 1959, my dad, my four brothers and I moved in with my grandparents in a small three-bedroom house near McClure Park in East Tulsa. Our ages ranged from 5 (me) to 13.
To say the least, we were a handful.
My saintly grandmother had a part-time job at Tulsa Bible Church, one block south of our house. She worked in the nursery because she loved children.
My grandmother insisted that her five grandsons go to church every Sunday. We all made professions of faith in Jesus Christ and were baptized in that small church.
She cooked for us. She made sure we had clean clothes. She made sure we went to school. She would cut a switch and whip us if we misbehaved.
She loved us and hugged us and filled the gap for a group of five wild boys who had lost their mom.
Her death left another hole in our household.
About 15 months ago, I became a grandfather for the first time. Most of my friends got grandkids a lot sooner than we did but that’s not a problem.
Without my foreknowledge, my daughter named my granddaughter after my mother. What a surprise and honor that was for me and our family.
How can I be a good grandpa?
That is a tough question. My granddaughter is 670 miles north of Tulsa in Mitchell, South Dakota. We are lucky to see her three or four times a year. And when we do see her (and my daughter and son-in-law), it’s usually just for a few days.(My daughter is expecting and is due in October. This time it’s a boy and we are very excited.)
My time spent with my granddaughter is golden. She is as cute as a bug in a rug. She’s very smart and she has an infectious grin.
It is a little sad that we are missing a lot of the big events in her early life but we will have many years (Lord willing) to have fun with this delightful child. My son-in-law is a music minister at a wonderful church in Mitchell and it is a great consolation to know that they are not in Tulsa because he is following his calling. I would rather have them in the center of God’s will in South Dakota than not doing the Lord’s work in Tulsa.
We work a lot. Because the Tulsa Beacon has to publish 51 weeks a year to maintain our legal status, we only get one week off a year. And we always take that between Christmas and New Year’s.
It takes about 12 hours to drive to Mitchell and almost that long to fly there. Weekend trips don’t make sense.
But thanks to technology, we get to see our granddaughter on a video feed and we will take that for now.
It is very important to me to have a meaningful relationship with my grandkids. Sometime down the road, when we retire, we will have more time to travel and not be as rushed.
Our three kids had the privilege of growing up with two grandparents, my wife’s parents (who now live in Tulsa). They are extraordinary people and I would like to live up to their example on how to be a good grandparent.
I am also fascinated by Dr. Walker Moore and his efforts to have an impact on the lives of his three grandsons.
When my maternal grandfather died in 1962, I felt great sadness and a little guilt. In his later years, he battled senility and when we moved into his house, it was unsettling to him. I doted on my grandmother but I didn’t pay him much attention and I regret that.
There are so many life lessons that I would like to discuss with grandchildren. Maybe God will be gracious to me and let me be around all of them.
My goal would be to leave them a legacy of faith in Jesus Christ most of all but it would be nice if 50 years from now, they would sit around at Christmas and swap stories about old Grandpa Charley.
More jokes….
– My girlfriend broke up with me because I’m a compulsive gambler. Since then, all I can think about it how to win her back.
– I asked my doctor if I could administer my own anesthetic. He said, “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.”
– I told this girl to text me when she got home. She must be homeless.
– After I broke my arm, my friend wrote down all my homework assignments on my elbow cast. It really classed up the joint.
– To the guy who stole my anti-depressants: I hope you’re happy.
– I went to lunch with a champion chess player. It took him eight minutes to pass me the salt.
– I just spotted an albino Dalmatian. It was the least I could do.
– I walked into a restaurant.
“Hi, is my table ready?” I asked.
“No, not yet, sir. Do you mind waiting?”
“No, that’s OK.”
“Great, take these salads to table 6.”
– My wife said she was leaving me because of my obsession with wearing different clothes every half hour. “Wait,” I said. “I can change.”
– My friend said she didn’t understand how cloning works. I said, “That makes two of us.”
– My wife told me that I twist everything she says to my advantage. I take that as a compliment.