My grandfather's name was John but everyone called him Jack. So much so that all these years later, I couldn't be sure whether his given name was John or Jack, and I sometimes would address one letter to John and then another later a few months later to Jack. A granddaughter should know her Pop Pop's first name without question, but more importantly, a granddaughter should know her Pop Pop. And even if I couldn't be sure of the name on his birth certificate, because he was so familiar to us that it never occurred to wonder, I could be sure of something else. He was a good man. A loving and kind man. The funniest man I have ever known.
Raised in a house where discipline and order were of the utmost importance, my grandfather harbored a work ethic that masked an intense love for art. While he chose to join the Marine Corps and later become a brick layer to provide for his family, he never let go of his creativity and allowed it to flourish both in and outside his career. His talent was so great that he could seamlessly weave it into any project he was working on - whether it was incorporating a cross and an ornate walkway in the house he built with his own two hands, or creating a mural of a firefighter holding a child out of bricks in a local fire station.
Art was his passion, but his family was his life. John and Alice Kyle were fiercely committed to one another through good times and bad. They raised three beautiful daughters who would one day grow into loving and successful adults who cared so much for their parents that they would sacrifice so much just to ensure their comfort and dignity at the end of their lives.
My grandfather was funny. Ask anyone who knew him and the resounding memory of him would undoubtedly be that he was funny. He would put on Flip Wilson records for us to listen and laugh at. He would tell jokes and dance and wear goofy costumes. No visitor at Jack's house could feel anything but jovial. Until his last days, you couldn't visit him without being told some joke. His wit was so quick that you could visit a hundred times and not hear the same wise cracks, because he could pull them out of the thin area right in front of him without even having to think. He never relied on the easy jokes, or the tried and true jokes. He could take any conversation and make it funny. It was his gift - to make any person comfortable and happy without having to even leave his chair. Despite being a notorious home-body, I have always envied him his ability to put those around him at ease and be the life of the party, no matter what.
Yes, the life of the party. That was my grandfather, and my grandmother really. They were the sort of couple that you just want to be around. They had fun - an immense amount of fun. Every occasion felt special, if just because it was always a good time around them. Everything felt like a party.
I remember chips and dip on the table, grapefruits for breakfast, candy canes hanging from every branch of the Christmas tree. I remember Vermouth in glasses and a porch that seemed always to be full of people. A closet full of Barbie dolls on one side of the house, and priceless antique china just steps away. A cupboard of board games, and a drawer overflowing with playing cards. I remember beds made of blankets on the floor for the kids, and playing bocce ball in the backyard. A classic car in the garage, and a game of handball in the driveway. A pool under the shade tree and trivia in the living room. A foundtain in the backyard, in front of which I often dreamt of getting married. A house so full of memories that it's hard to focus when you're there sometimes, for all the gazing around.
Oh my dear Pop Pop and Grammy - you had three daughters and five grandchildren and six great grandchildren. Your daughters love you with a fierce loyalty and your grandkids admire the honorable and spirited way you lived your lives. You created a world that was safe and sturdy and just, and encircled your loved ones in the goodness of your spirit. You will never be forgotten. For every time we see each other, we will see the house that you built standing firm and strong - a family that has withstood loss and heartache with devotion and loyalty and most importantly, the legacy of your love.
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