1986
This morning I sent my mom a text message asking her to write something In Memoriam for Champ, who died 19 years ago on this day. I was thinking of him, looking at the foliage which always reminds me of the day of his death. And Mom texted back, "You are reading my mind." Which made me realize that many of the descendants and other wackos are thinking about Charlie Stoddard today, so in some way, we're together. I'll never forget the day he died. I think it might be like how people remember where they were when JFK died. I was 18 years old and, as corny as it sounds, I remember October 2, 1989 as the day that I grew up. Anyway, I thought about Champ all day today. I think he means as much to me in his absence as he did when he was present. And I think that was true when he was alive, too. My elusive, charming, brilliant and restless grandfather...how we all miss him. We never got enough of him even when he was here and alive. But he's still here.
Here's Mom's words:
I want to say how it makes sense that his oldest grandchild, the one who was lucky enough to remember him best, has given us this gift of remembering (immortalizing?) him in the name of the blog and in the picture. The picture makes me smile every day when I check the blog, still sad, but sweet. I'd like to say something about each individual grandchild and how proud he would be, telling his bar mates about Zoe's writing, poetry and running, Kali's basketball and music, or Dahe's house and his strength, how sweet Kayla is and how funny Henekis is, and about the work she and Zoe do, how brave Shani is to go to NY and follow his dream, how pretty Jordan is and she has the gift of Stoddard sarcasm, how amazingly smart and accomplished Nellie is, and great grandchildren, Harper the artist and Patrick the naturally talented musician... But he would be most proud of what truly good people they all are and how much they truly, truly cherish each other. I can see him with that smile on his face, hand on his cheek and cig in his fingers...
I can see him too. And that smile and twinkle in his eye. Like Mom, I love to imagine how he'd be proud of all of us and I see him and his smile in my aunts and uncles and, especially, my cousins and my children. And what I thought about today was how our family shares humor, food, stories and fun and I remembered that day he died and the days that followed and how we shared our grief and pain. And how when Sally was so sick we shared our fear. And driving in northern New England today the colored leaves reminded me of how my family came together in their pain 19 years ago to grieve and take care of each other and thereby taught me how to be a grown up in this world.
Yes, Champ has undies on his head.
In this picture, Champ's shirt says, "Cindy's D
addy". He wore it every Old Home Day he showed up for.
Champ at my high school graduation. The last time many of us saw him.
Last but not least, the great cat joke.
6 comments:
Time passages:
1971: Charlie was the first person I went to see following Zoë's birth.
1989: On my way home from the memorial for Charlie, I saw fall foliage more brilliantly beautiful than I'd ever seen before in my life, & since then I always think of Charlie when the leaves begin to turn.
2008: To my eyes, the foliage this season has finally matched 1989, & this year Zoë birthed this blog honoring Charlie.
Thread of connections more intuitive than logical: I feel it more than I know it. This is not altogether typical of me.
David, That is just lovely.
Corny as it sounds, I have always said "my childhood ended" the day my grandfather (Chick) died. I was eleven. Zoe said she "grew up" when her grandfather died. She was eighteen. Is that called generational progress?
Thank you for this Zoe, it's wonderful. Champ would be amazed. BTW, that personalized tee shirt that seems so silly now was quite a novelty back then. OK, it was silly back then too!
A word of praise for Zoë's technical savvy getting those precise video clips from 5 lengthy DVDs onto here! Would you believe that not so very long ago *I* used to be the "computer guy" of the family? More generational progress!
Your blog makes me think alot about our little 1950s, early '60s family of 5. Momma, Daddy, Cindy, Tommy and I had a different family than the one the rest of you came to know. Even before Rae, even before David. I remember Mom sitting on the back steps laughing while Daddy laid on the grass throwing Tommy up in the air as Cindy and I held our breaths at how amazing it was that he caught him each time, and I remember dressing up on Sunday mornings, Momma fixing the collar of Tommy's coat and our stepping out of the house taking ahold of each others' hands. My heart still knows how safe and wonderful and special that all felt. I can see us giggling while we played so many silly/wonderful made-up games in the sandbox and the closets and at camp when we would go way, way down on the beach all by ourselves while everyone big was up at the cottage. I remember when we bought a little stand-up freezer for the cellar and Mom took us to the Drake's Cakes Discount store; Tommy and I were in the shopping cart and she piled Drake's goodies all around us -- like being buried in snow and then, Oh! to watch as she FILLED the freezer with them and then to go to bed knowing they were right under our room -- heaven. I remember bringing questions to Daddy and ALWAYS having them answered and how incredible it felt knowing he knew every single thing,EVERYTHING even the capital of Maine. Oh my gosh, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of those things have defined me, they defined all 5 of us. With the passage of time, the things that were difficult only happened for a time and they didn't take away all the foundation of love and strength that preceded them. We are not an incredibly loving ,curious, passionate, funny family because of what we endured, we are one because of the incredible foundation of family, of love, of laughter, of thoughts, of adventures the 5 of us had -- and how diligently and with our lives we (Momma, Daddy, Cindy, Tommy and I) we just knew we would never lose it. We didn't learn that through the adversity, we learned it because of the incredibly wonderful foundation that preceded the adversity. Your thoughts about our family make me have thoughts about the beautiful family that I was in as a little girl and the ways in which the 5 of us carried that definition of family right through the passage of time and now get to see it so wonderfully in all of you.I can not begin to tell you how much your writing the blog means to me.
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