Grandpa Hayman, 1921-2010

My Grandpa Hayman passed away last Wednesday. It was expected and yet unexpected. About a month after celebrating his 89th birthday in February, doctors diagnosed my grandfather with pancreatic cancer and gave him a few short months to live. I just didn't expect that it would be weeks instead of months. For some reason, I had really hoped that he would live to see his six forthcoming great-grandchildren born in the next six months; in other ways, it's comforting to know that even though Grandpa Hayman is no longer with us, so many new children will soon be with us and that Grandpa's memory will live on.

I have a close relationship with my Grandma and Grandpa Hayman because, for the majority of my childhood, they lived close by. They were there at my concerts and recitals, graduations, baptism, birthdays, and wedding. Spending time at Grandma and Grandpa's house is always a treat....and not just because they always have a very well-stocked cupboard full of cookies and candies. It's very hard to be so far away from home and to not get to attend his funeral, which was held yesterday. But I want my chance to remember him just the same because there's a little part of him in everything about me.

Grandma Hayman, David, me, and Grandpa Hayman at my wedding

-- Bow ties. My grandfather wore only bow ties. Who doesn't love a cute little 80 year old man in a bow tie? He always had a clear sense of style and no one could deter him from that.

-- His sense of humor. Grandpa told some of the corniest jokes on earth, but they always made me laugh because he told them so well. The last few years his memory started to fade and so I heard several of them many times over, but they never ceased to make me giggle.

-- His intelligence and wit. Grandpa was a smarty-pants and spawned a family of fellow smarty-pants. Education and academics always had a high priority in our family and I think that had a lot to do with my grandpa. He went to college at 16 and was preparing to start his Ph.D at Ohio States when he was drafted during World War II. He was 21.

-- After the war, Grandpa returned to California to run the family business: an appliance store. For some reason, I've always been fascinated by the thought of my grandfather selling televisions, refrigerators and washing machines in the 50's and 60's during the height of postwar America's consumerism. I studied the the impact of television on our society and culture--particularly on American home life--in grad school and I always felt a certain sense of awe and pride in the fact that my grandfather was a part of this new culture and the rise of the middle class in postwar America.

-- His wandering feet (the original wandering feet). My grandparents caught the traveling bug before commercial flying was a common practice. My grandparents have a big map of the world in their den with little stick pins of all the places they've been....and it's covered. They've been everywhere--absolutely everywhere. All seven continents (including Antarctica) and over 160 countries. I grew up listening to their adventures in foreign lands, the exotic places they'd been, the foods they'd eaten, the people they encountered. I learned that the world is both so much bigger and so much smaller than I had ever imagined. Places like Egypt, China, South Africa and India never seemed so far away because I knew my grandparents had been there. My grandpa always said that the three favorite places he had ever visited were Switzerland, New Zealand, and Antarctica. Switzerland, because it was the most beautiful; New Zealand, because it had the nicest people; and Antarctica because it was the most unique. It's been my goal for a long time now to match my grandparents and visit all seven continents. Four down, only three more to go.

-- His appreciation of nice cars. Hayman's like to drive. And we like to drive fast. Who else has a grandfather who used to own a red Corvette?

-- His stubbornness. While Grandpa mellowed significantly in his later years, I know the Hayman's have a long-running stubborn streak that comes from his side of the family.

-- His absolute devotion and love for my Grandmother. If there is one story I never tire of hearing, it's the story of how my grandparents met during World War II. My grandpa--an educated Jewish boy from Southern California--was sent to Utah after being drafted by the Army for training, while my grandma--a teenage Mormon girl from a tiny little town in Idaho--was living in Utah with relatives. She and her friend snuck into an USO dance (you had to be 18 to enter) and met my grandpa there. It wasn't until they were already engaged that my grandfather learned that my grandmother was actually only 15 (he was 22) but that didn't stop them. They were married in March of 1943. Grandpa was sent to Alaska for the remainder of the war and my Grandmother moved to California to live with her new in-laws and to finish high school and, as she puts it, "to finish growing up". My grandpa wrote my grandmother everyday that he was gone. (I really hope she kept all those letters.)

Throughout my life, I watched the love and devotion my grandfather had for my grandmother. He loved his family but his whole world revolved around my grandma, who, as any of her children and grandchildren can attest, is the kindest, most loving woman in the world. As his memory started to fade the last few years, my grandmother would have to gently remind him of many things and his response was often: "I don't remember much, but I do remember that I love you."

There's a line in one of my favorite book series that always makes me cry. The main characters are about to be separated before the start of a war. The husband is sending his wife away to safety while he prepares to return to the commencing battle and almost assuredly, his death. When contemplating his fate, he says:

"But there is one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest....Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well." (Dragonfly in Amber, pg. 698)

I always think of my grandfather when I read that, for if there is one thing that he did, and did well, it was in loving my grandmother, the rarest of women, for 67 years. I can only hope that David and I will have a chance to be together for that long and that, after 60 years together, he'll still look at me the way my grandfather looked at my grandmother, and remember that he loves me.