Memories

Today we honored the memory of my great-grandfather Robert Stanley Goodman. He passed away last month at the age of 89. Known to the family simply as "Grandpa G", he taught me a great deal about boating, fishing, the outdoors, and also life in general.

Grandpa G was an honorable man. He served the United States in world war II, in Germany and France. He was a family man, raising a son and a sister-in-law that he and his wife took in as their own child when her parents passed. He was one of those men who was proud, and rarely spoke about emotional matters. I suppose it's a product of that generation. He was a no-nonsense man and I had a tremendous amount of respect for him.

I was very fortunate to spend a great deal of time with Grandpa G during my early teen years; in the summertime I would call him up to go camping 2 or 3 times a summer. Unbeknownst to my mom, at the early age of 14 and 15, he would often let me drive his truck, with a boat in tow, up to the lake. We had wonderful trips to Timothy lake on Mt. Hood and to Lake Simtustus on the Deschutes river in central Oregon.

Grandpa G always had a story to tell. Most often, he loved to tell me the story of his honeymoon, when he and my grandma took a motorcycle tour of Oregon. At the time, the Mt. Hood national forest was just recovering from a devastating fire. There was not a tree on the mountain. Yet he always marveled that, not even 50 years later, the forest was thriving. A great example of mother nature's resiliency. I heard this story countless times. He had a knack for repeating himself.

At some point in our trips, I pointed this out to him, which he found to be very amusing. This then became the story that he would recall to me, or anyone else who would listen. As I grew older, and our trips ceased due to me working, or going to school, I found myself missing the story. We always made 1 camping trip during the summer with the whole family, and without fail, upon his arrival, he would immediately recount to the family how when they passed the trees on the way up, he would start to tell the story to grandma, and she would reply "I know, I know!" It was a classic Grandpa G moment.

Grandpa G taught me how to drive a boat; he was a firm believer that the best lessons were taught hands-on. I took a lot from that. I always wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle from him, as he was an avid rider, even until his time of death. I am truly sorry I never got to experience that.

Grandpa, I miss you. We're going camping in 2 days and it's not going to be the same without you. Just know that Joshua will have that story memorized by the time he is 8. Your wisdom and lessons will be your legacy to me, and my son, and his children. We all love you.