I met him for the first time right after I arrived in the States back in ’92, and he welcomed me with open arms. And he was always helping us out – Melanie was only 8 when she arrived in the States with Eric – Phil and I were still in Germany, and he connected with her and had her over every evening for ice-cream. I imagine that made things a little easier for her.

Then Phil and I arrived, and so we could get a place of our own, he bought a trailer for us to live in, and he charged us $150 a month in rent (that was dirt cheap even back in 1992) – and many times he told us to not pay him but use it to buy a microwave or whatever else we needed – and back then, we needed EVERYTHING!!!

Once I finally found a job, we needed a second car and he bought it for us. It was an old Colt and it cost around $600 – and it ran for over a year. I paid him back about half in weekly installments, and the other half he gave me for a birthday present.

Once Phil was a little older, he took him fishing and had him ‘help’ in his wood shop – I admit, knowing the old man and the little kid were alone amongst all those chainsaws, dremels, and drills wasn’t exactly comforting to me, but I was hoping for the best, and my wish was granted. No blood, no stitches, no missing digits or limbs – just beautiful memories for Phillip now. And to this day, I still use the wooden hotpads they made for me.

When he was 85, he checked into the hospital to have an aneurysm repaired – major surgery, and it didn’t look good for him there for a while – especially after he had another heart attack while still trying to recover from the aneurysm surgery in the hospital. But he made it and barely back home, he was already ‘running’ circles in front of the house to get his strength back.

2006, a stroke made it impossible for him to live on his own – mind you, at that time he was 92, and still mostly – with help from his daughter, my mother-in-law, taking care of himself – and he moved into a nursing home where a few days ago, he had another stroke. This time, he wasn’t fighting – and at 94, who of us would be able to or even want to????

I wonder if he’s run into MY grandpa yet…..

Oh – and I’m filing this under “Golden Moments” because it is golden having known him.