A Story from My Childhood Part III

When I was growing up, I had a very close relationship with my maternal grandparents.  My fraternal ones were far older, and both were dead before I even celebrated my first birthday.  My Maternal grandparents to me because of this were my onely grandparents.  My grandma’s name was Shirley and my grandfather’s was Murray.  From the 1950’s until my grandmother’s death in early 2002 they lived in the same home located in Livingston, NJ.  This blog entry is a mixture of memories of my time spent with them, sort of a tribute to my grandparents who meant more than anything to me and still do.

When I was little, the first thing I would do everyday was pick up the phone and call my grandma and grandpa.  We had an AT&T cordless phone back back in our Millington house that had the number on speed dial.  All I had to do to call them was click function 1 and the phone in Livingston would ring.  My grandpa would answer the phone sometimes and would have to ask a couple times who it was, because his hearing wasn’t so good.  I’d tell my grandma and grandpa about how my day was and all the things I did at school.  They always had questions about my day.  As much as I don’t remember the phone conversations, I miss them and wish I could pick up a phone and call either one of them.

My love for music stems from my grandparents.  Starting when I was only three or four years old, my grandparents started taking me to see the Livingston Symphony Orchestra.  I remember lots of summer concerts outside sitting with my grandparents.  One time, my grandma introduced me to her friend Lila who was a percussionist in the band.  It was one of the most exciting things to me.  Meeting one of the people who played the music I enjoyed was sort of surreal to me.  The concerts would always begin with a patriotic song.  I can still remember the excitement of hearing Beethoven with my grandparents and wanting to play an instrument later in my life.  In elementary school during 5th grade I tried to learn how to play the trumpet and later trombone, but had little success and decided that I was better suited for choral arts.  This lead me to two years of Middle School Chorus and two in high school.

My grandparents had a lake house on Upper Greenwood Lake on the border between New York and New Jersey.  Their lake house was much smaller than my Aunt Martie’s was on Lake Ontario.  In the front door was a tiny kitchen.  As you continued, there was a bathroom and a bedroom on the right.  Still forward was a small living room and eating area.  To the left was my grandparent’s bedroom.  On the wall were a number of spots for keys, including one for my grandfather’s boat.  Below the keys was a small table with a rotary phone.  Outside the living room was a deck.  Most of the time at the lake was spent either there or in one of the boats.  Down the stairs of the deck if you wre to go forward there was a dirty old basement filled with all sorts of fun things, but most of the time we only went there to get lifejackets before going on my grandpa’s boat or my grandma’s row boat.  The opposite way down the stairs from the basement were a set of stone steps.  If you were to follow these down through the trees, you would find my grandpa’s motor boat, a row boat, and a small dock.  The motor boat’s seats were chewed up by squirrels.  Instead of spending money on bumpers, my grandfather resorted to empty two liter bottles of soda (not very effective, so don’t bother trying it).  The boat had a history of breaking down and running out of gas in the middle of the lake.  I have a tape at home of family members getting back to the house after rowing about half way across the lake.  Behind my grandmother’s row boat were several small blueberry and raspberry bushes.  Sometimes before dinner there I would go with my grandmother and my sister to pick some to go with a fruit salad.  Fruit salad was always a must in my grandmother’s meals.

I have far more to talk about, but I don’t want to drive yall nuts on this entry, so I will write more about my grandparents and my experiences with them tomorrow.

Ross

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