My
Grandpa Cardiff was a farmer, an unpolished rough-around-the-edges man who
possessed the most amazing volume of swear words I had ever heard. With his grandchildren, Grandpa was gentle
and kind, but he was quiet.
 |
| My mother is the small blonde girl on Grandpa's lap. |
He was
quiet, but he was a listener which was a good thing because I could talk enough
for both of us. With him, my little girl
imagination and world of questions could burst free and fill the air.
It was
a rarity that a grown-up would sit and listen to me, but he did. We would sit on a bench down by the garden under
a twisted peach tree. He cut pieces of
tree sap and let me taste it. Once Grandpa even gave me a piece of his “chaw” or
chewing tobacco once, and I threw up.
When I
spent the night at my grandparent’s house, I slept on the couch in the living
room. Grandma often babysat for
neighbors, making a whole 25 cents an hour.
When Grandma was out babysitting, Grandpa and I watched the black and white TV; his preferences were
baseball and boxing.
I
understood neither. “Which one do we
like, Grandpa?”
But I
loved it when he swore. He raised his
fist, let loose with a string of profanity, and told the players, “Yuh shoulda …yuh
sons of bitches…” I never knew what that
meant, so when I said it to my 4th grade teacher, she did not like
it one bit.
Later,
much later after his death, I learned more about him. How he had been in the Great War, how he was
a sniper behind enemy lines. How he had
been gassed and what that did to him. What
he had seen and what he had to do to survive.
Why he was so quiet.
Oddly,
I cannot reproduce his wide knowledge of profanity. I guess it was one of his many gifts, and
Lord knows, he had the right to use it.
 |
| Men in the infantry were the ones who "went over the top" from the trenches. |
haha sure the teacher did not like that at all. Profanity can be fun, sounds like he deserved to let it fly indeed.
ReplyDeleteMy son is the most talented swearer. He is so creative in his combinations of profanity. He doesn't swear around me anymore, though. Grandpa would have been proud.
DeleteThank you Lewis.
ReplyDeleteYes, his generation needs to be recognized for their sacrifice in a war that was brutal, and didn't end all wars.
DeleteA wonderful post for veteran's day. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteGrandpa died in 1965, when I was 13. I was just beginning to understand him when he died.
Deletesuch a sweet post for this day :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lynn. This day and all days should be days to remember the veterans, both living and dead.
DeleteThe reason that they were so quiet. Yes. We can only imagine what they had seen and experienced.
ReplyDeleteLike your grandfather, my father seemed mild-mannered but there was a deep well of anger that he tapped every now and then. And he knew a lot of cuss words, too.
Great post.
What a wonderful tribute to your grandfather. I did not know mine on either side of the family. My father told us, with no little pride, that he could sleep, eat and swear in six or seven languages. Certainly the words he used on the lawn mower sounded profane. His experiences in the war were not discussed, other than the tale of the vultures that stole his breakfast bacon while he was in Egypt. Other than that, he made an oyster look garrulous. Which I understand more and more as time goes by.
ReplyDeleteNo one ever comes back from war the same person they were. Swearing probably was an outlet for his frustrations. Bless that dear man and all of the others who have served their nation.
ReplyDelete