elmo

Elmo with Stephanie and Alyse Larson (granddaughters)

Elmo with his dad, Ariel

While cleaning out and sorting through, I feel like I am taking quite a walk down memory lane these days.  I found these pictures, among many others, that I was organizing.  Robert's dad passed away in February of 1992.  Robert and I weren't married until December of that year, so our children didn't know Elmo.  (Yes, his real name is Elmo.  Our kids always get a kick out of that!  My grandpa's name was Elmo?)  They get little tidbits of information here and there and the occasional story is told at family gatherings.  I did, however, come across this essay while I was sifting through things.  It was written by Sarah, the oldest of the grandchildren.  She wrote is for an English class at ASU.  I thought I would share it here, since my children have never seen it before.

Elmo with Robert and Stephen

 The Sweetest Memories

By Sarah Shumway
(written in 1995)

Whenever I walk into a See's Candy Shop and see an almond turtle, I think of my grandpa.  A jar of gourmet jellybeans brings back sweet memories of the time that I spent with him.  Also, he always comes to mind when I pop a lemon drop into my mouth.  Many other sugary foods remind me of my grandpa.  These seemingly insignificant candies each bring back special memories of my grandpa.  Just like a child, he enjoyed the sweet things in life.

I was fortunate to grow up close to my grandparents.  They lived just a mile or two away.  I loved to stay at their home.  Grandpa could always find something for me to do.  Whether it was work or fun, I enjoyed spending time with him.

Grandpa loved to work in his garden and greenhouse.  I recall many times when I helped him transplant small plants into bigger pots.  He taught me that when you move a plant, its roots go through a period of shock.  He showed me how to carefully pot the plant, not breaking off any of the roots.  I loved to watch his gentle hands work with these delicate seedlings.  Together, we planted flowers in the backyard planters and tomato plants in the greenhouse.  I learned the value of hard work as I saw these plants take life and blossom.

When it was time to plant the garden, my family always went over to help.  Grandpa assigned my sister and I a row of seeds to plant.  He then demonstrated how to properly plant the seeds.  His hands worked quickly as he dug a small hole, sprinkled in a couple of seeds, and covered the seeds with dirt and mulch.  He was patient with us, teaching by example.

When I was fourteen, I worked during the summer at my grandpa's dental office.  Most of the time, I filed records, typed lab orders, and worked on the balance sheet.  However, there were a few times when all of the dental assistants were busy and grandpa asked me to help him.

He showed me where the suction tube was and demonstrated how to use it.  He then turned the tube over to me so he could perform the root canal.  As I began, the patient looked up, probably wondering what he had gotten himself into.  Several times I slipped and sucked up the patient's cheek, but Grandpa never got mad.  He smiled and continued on with the root canal.  His patience with me helped me gain greater confidence in my abilities.

Grandpa could always have fun spontaneously.  One time, a bunch of my female cousins and I spent the night at my grandparents' house.  We were sitting in the family room doing nothing when my grandpa came in.

"Alright you guys," he exclaimed, "let's play charades!"

Elmo surrounded by children and grandchildren

We all rolled our eyes.  We doubted that we could have any fun playing such a childish game.  We started to play the game and we began to have fun.  We all took turns acting out the titles of books, movies, and TV shows.  Then it was my grandpa's turn to act something out.  He stood in front of us in his slacks and button down shirt. At 5'7", he didn't exactly tower over us in height, but instead was a tower of wisdom and love.  His gray hair was thin, leaving the top of his head exposed.  His hazel eyes danced with excitement.  He was in great shape from running every morning.  However, his face showed signs of age.  Wrinkles lined the corners of his mouth and the area below his eyes.  But at that moment, he was full of youth and vitality.

We watched him as he gave us the signal representing a movie.  He then held up three fingers in the air, showing us that there were three words in the title of the move.  The first word was a small one.

We started shouting out words.  "The, a, an, we, me, are."

When we guessed the word "my," he pointed at us and clapped his hands.  Then he moved to the third word.  He casually walked over to the side of the room.  He put his left hand on his hip and his right hand up by his head like a feather.  He then started walking, swinging his hips from side to side like he was ringing a bell.  He pretended to longingly bat his eyes at an imaginary person.  We busted up laughing.  We had never seen grandpa do anything like that.  We asked him to do it again and we laughed ever more.  We never ended up guessing the right word for his charade, but whenever I see the move "My Fair Lady," I think of that incident.

Stephen and Robert (sons), Stephanie and Alyse Larson, Bradley,  Julie, Allison, Lisa, and Sarah Shumway (grandchildren) - late 1980s

 The summer before my freshman year of high school, my grandpa was diagnosed with cancer.  It was a difficult time for my family and me.  We saw him physically deteriorate in a few short months.  His distinctive laugh and cheerful smile had faded.  The surgeries and massive doses of chemotherapy had taken much of the life out of his appearance.  His face became thin and pale.  His eyes appeared sunken in and seemed like they were filled with great sadness.  Despite this appearance, he still remained full of love and determination.  He hardly ever complained about the extreme pain he was in.

One time between hospital visits, he appeared at our door.  He wore a blue hooded cotton jacket and a tee shirt.  Brown loafers were on his feet.  He came right into the kitchen carrying a bag of food.  We were shocked to see him.  Before he got sick, it was a common occurrence for him to come over with food.  He would often bring us vegetables from his garden.  But now he hardly ever walked around, being too weak to get out of bed.

Elmo with Robert and BYU roommates - 1989

 He began to unload the groceries out of the bag.  His hands move steadily as he pulled out chicken, pineapple juice, and cornstarch.

"Diane," he said to my mom, "I have this really good recipe for Oriental chicken.  You can make it tonight for dinner.  Here are all of the ingredients."  He continued to unload the food.  "Just follow the recipe."

My mom could not even get a word in because he kept talking.

"I have to get back to the house before Norene notices that I'm gone."  Now grinning widely, he continued to speak.  "She has some people over and so I snuck out for a moment."

"Thanks," my mom said worriedly, "but you shouldn't be doing this."

"I'm fine," he retorted.  "I knew that you would really enjoy this recipe, so I had to bring it over."  He left without saying too much more.

He had always loved sharing the things that he enjoyed with others.  Often when my family was over for a visit, he would invite us to stay for dinner.  He would treat us to his homemade sub sandwiches and soup.  Store bought candy such as almond turtles, lemon drops, and gourmet jellybeans were always in abundance at grandpa's house.  He always shared his indulgences with me.  He even kept a secret stash of lemon drops when he was sick.  Whenever I went to see him, I was treated to the lemon candies.

Elmo, Robert (in bow tie), Alyse, Stephanie, Britton, Patty (daughter), and Tim Larson

In the second semester of my freshman year, grandpa passed away.  Although he was not perfect, his innate qualities of patience and generosity stand out in my mind.  His unselfishness was especially apparent during the time that he had cancer.  Although he must have been frustrated with what was happening to him, he always demonstrated patience around me.  He had the ability to forget his own problems and share things like the Oriental chicken recipe with others.  These genuine qualities seem to personify him and the life that he lived.  Now, after I have had a chance to grow up, I find myself trying to understand him better.  I wish I had one more opportunity to see him.  I wish that I could have one more chance to play a game of charades with him.  Then I would once again have the ability to see his love in action.