A great man has passed

A few days ago, I received a call from my sister to find out that my maternal grandfather had died.

I wish I could say that I cried like a man about it. You know; the catch in the voice, the few solitary tears that run down the face, and then you just kind of carry on with whatever you were doing. 

But I didn't. I wept as a child weeps.. with a face twisted in grief, barely able to articulate my words.

I loved and admired that man greatly. My long suffering parents would seek relief from their rapscallion of a son by shipping him off to his grandfather for a week or two in the summer. He was a large and physically powerful man who could easily keep me in line. We would go to the movies, he would let me do some backyard shooting, and he would tell me stories from his experiences. 

He was a stern man with me. Not a joyless man, mind you. After all, he had a stockpile of jokes to tell, it's just that he didn't constantly throw them out at me. He did not tolerate childish behavior even from me as a child. No, he always treated me like an adult, and expected me to act like one in return. He always dealt with me straight and true. He never sugar-coated things or told me little white lies to make me feel better. When he sat me down, and wanted to talk to me, it was always dead in the eyes. It was never as a distraction or a lecture. It was as an old warhorse who had earned his knowledge the hard way. As a child, he had been a jewish kid growing up in a italian neighborhood, and had to fight almost every day to keep his head up. He had worked hard for everything he had ever earned in his life. He understood that what made a man successful in life was his dedication in the face of adversity. It is an easy thing for a man to attain goals in the absence of resistance, but a strong man will succeed, even in the most difficult of circumstances. He always expected the best of me, and I like to think that I did not fail him more often than I did.  He had a wisdom born of hard lessons and deep sacrifice. I cannot help but think this is why, even five minutes after meeting my future wife shortly after we had started dating, he pulled me aside, and in that low and throaty growl of a voice that meant he was lethal serious, he told me that I had a good woman, and that I would be "a damned fool" if I were to let her slip away. These were strong words for a man not given to theatrics, and he was more right than I could have imagined.

 These principles had served him well, and he had accomplished much. HE had made a small fortune several times over. He would make a pile of money and then his wife would leave him and take the money with her. Then he would bootstrap himself up all over again. He was an avid big game hunter, and has killed just about everything that ever walked or crawled upon this planet. There are elephant tusks and bear skins scattered around the family from his exploits. I remember his game room with the head of a Cape buffalo mounted prominently on one wall, and various different animals with all manner of antlers and tusks sticking out of their heads and mouths. 

While he was not a perfect man, he was a true man's man. He had started from nothing, and carved out a piece of the American dream for himself. When he lost it, he did not cry or whine, he just buckled down, and did it all again. He not only showed me the way to be an adult, and he lived the way. 

I visited him a couple of months ago. It was, I knew, likely to be the last time we met in this world. It broke my heart to see how age had ravaged him. The physician in me could catalogue the number of systems that were borderline in his body just by looking at him. It was difficult to see this mountain of a man reduced to what I saw before me. Even so, even as he struggled, he still looked me dead in the eye when he spoke to me, and told me in stern and no infirm words the same advice he had always given; work hard.. nobody cares for good intention in the face of failure... stand by your blood.... never let the bastards wear you down.... Never cheat or lie, your integrity is *never* worth it. In the corner were the elephant tusks. I hada not seen those for years, and it struck me how small they seemed now. I remember them arching over me as a young child. I asked him what rifle he used to take the elephant. ".50 cal" was his answer, "I wouldn't use anything less, not on an elephant." Realizing that he might be the only man who could answer it, I asked him something. I asked him, that of all the animals on all the continents he had hunted, from lions to cape buffalo, to elephants, to rhino, what of all these dangerous beasts was the most dangerous. The response was instantaneous.

"kodiak bear," he said.

When I asked him why, he looked at me and said that those Kodiaks were smart, smarter than your hunting dogs, and that once they knew you were there, and what you were about, they would start hunting *you*. At 5' at the shoulder, and tipping the scales at three quarters of a ton, this certainly is some of the most dangerous game, and if my grandfather says that they are the most dangerous, then I am inclined to take the man at his word. Especially knowing that he had nearly been killed by a polar bear up in the artic circle while hunting moose. While dressing the kill, a polar bear had snuck up on him, and decided to turn him into a buffet spread. My grandfather drew his sidearm, and, having time for only a single shot before the bear was upon him, fired a single round from the revolver into the bears head, killing it. The range was six feet.  Shortly after that, his confusion returned, and he had to go rest. I bid him farewell for what I correctly guessed would be the last time, and embraced him one last time.

In many Native American cultures, the bear totem is a symbol of wisdom, family, and powerful forces. This occurred to me as I drove away, and I thought that, if that is true, then my grandfather was, in many ways, like the bear that he most feared and respected. He was a very powerful and wise man who cared very much for his family.

 I would very much have liked to have gone on a safari with him. I like to think that someday, long from now, when I pass out of this world, we shall be able to do just that. Not as old men, but young and strong again, we shall hunt the African plains and Alaskan wilderness together.

Farewell grandfather, and happy hunting.

Respectfully Submitted,
-doc Russia