Kenneth George DeCook, a great man, so I’ve been told. He was my maternal grandfather. Unfortunately, I vaguely remember him because life is fragile, and he passed away on March 29, 2001 when I was a mere 4 years old.

Recently I saw a picture of my grandpa that brought back the few memories that I do have of him. In the picture, he is sitting down, smiling at the camera and holding a cigarette. His smile looks like more than just a smile to me, though. The way his immaculate, charcoal mustache curls around the corners of his lips and the softness in his eyes make it look like he is telling me something. When I look at this picture I feel as if my grandpa is telling me that he is happier now, even though he wasn’t ill when the picture was taken, not to mention that I didn’t even exist yet!

This picture of my grandfather was taken in a white room with very little artwork or decorations on the walls. There are, however, three items on the walls that are visible in this picture. Two of the items are: a painting of a white stallion on a dark background and a small American flag. One item is larger than the other two, but the entire object is not visible. The object is a painting of what appears to be a ship on the ocean. A ship on the ocean is magnificent, but that’s not what has the most significance in this painting. On the right side of the painting there are two words in an “Old English” font that are nearly illegible due to the quality of the photo: “Tender moments”.

As I look at this picture, I begin to recall that my grandfather was not one for having his picture taken, which led me to ask, “Why on Earth is he smiling in this picture if he didn’t like having his picture taken?” So naturally, I took the question to my mom, his daughter. The story I received as an answer would have lulled some to sleep, but to me, it was enchanting. After a severe ice storm in January of 1991, the roads, power lines, and trees were covered in thick sheets of ice. My mom used to ride with her father to work, as they worked in the same building. However, on this particular day, work was cancelled. They did not learn this until after arriving at work, so they just went to my mom and dad’s apartment, only to find out that my dad’s work had been cancelled as well. After some time sitting at home, they decided that they should go take pictures of the ice. This picture was actually only a test shot to make sure the camera worked! Test shots really are worth saving!

Pictures can coax memories out of everyone’s brains, especially my mom and stepdad! Mom recalled many memories when shown the picture. Ken was a man who didn’t laugh much, especially at the dinner table! As a child, mom and her siblings would start to laugh while at the dinner table, which then led to them being told to leave the table. In her words, he was a “serious” man. A trait that my mother assumes has made it through the generations is my grandfather’s stubbornness. She associates my occasional stubbornness with her father.

This stubbornness accompanied him to his grave. At age 56 my grandfather was diagnosed with lung cancer. He was in denial from day one. However, he beat the lung cancer and it went into remission. Unfortunately, his cancer came back, but this time it was in his brain. The stubbornness led to an even greater feeling of denial. When told this, I asked my mother how he was around me, as I was hoping that he was an amazing grandfather. Through this I learned that he was nervous around me. Not because I was a “wild child”, but because he didn’t want to accidentally hurt me and he wasn’t entirely comfortable around small children. Because of this feeling, he was reserved and he was one of those grandfathers who just sits to the side and watches his grandchild play.

My stepdad, Ray, also has a few memories of my grandfather from the few times that he saw him. From his stories, I saw a more humorous side of my grandfather. One time my stepdad took Ken out for some coffee. This was in early spring when the side of the road and the grassy areas were covered in slushy, dirty, snow-gunk. While travelling down the road headed towards the local restaurant, Blue Ribbon, my stepdad hit a pothole. Upon hitting the pothole, a hubcap rocketed off the car and sunk into that slushy, dirty, snow-gunk. Because the gunk has a liquid consistency, my stepdad could not see exactly where the hubcap landed. So here was my stepdad sloshing around in the nastiness, while my grandfather stood on the road yelling, “I think it went that way! And don’t worry, I won’t tell Patti you hit that pothole!” Patti is my mom, Ken’s daughter. Hearing of my grandfather being humorous lightened my heart and displayed his happier side.

Ray had another story, however, that showed me the more caring and sentimental side of my grandfather. There were more occasions where my stepdad took my grandfather out for coffee and pie (Ken loved his coffee and pie) and following one of these occasions, my grandfather told my stepdad something that will most likely forever live in his heart. The trip took place after my grandfather had already been placed in a local hospice house, The House of John. Ken looked Ray in the eye and said, “I know I don’t have to worry about my baby anymore.” All of this was well after he was diagnosed with brain cancer, so I feel that this was also my grandfather’s way of accepting the fact that he was terminally ill.

While they have their memories, I have mine. I don’t remember much about my grandfather, but from what I can recall, he was a generally happy man. Visiting him and smelling the pungent odor of cigarette smoke mixed with the intense aroma of coffee on his clothing is one of my most vivid memories of him.

My grandfather’s funeral also stands out. As a four-year-old boy at a funeral, it was confusing. One moment that I relive over and over is when I looked in the casket at my grandfather’s body. Looking back on this moment, I think looking into the casket actually has had a positive impact on my life.

Through stories and pictures, I learn the life of my grandfather. Yet sometimes the question comes to mind of: “Why did he have to go so early? What if he wasn’t done yet here on Earth?” But then I remember that God has a plan for all of us. Maybe it was time for my grandpa to move on; everything happens for a reason. Death makes people realize how mortal we are as humans. Life is short and we must take advantage of the time we have with loved ones. Looking at this picture was like taking a slap to the face. That sudden realization of how tender life is knocked me backwards. “Tender moments”, just as the painting in the picture says.

Before seeing this picture, stories had given me a fairly clear idea of who my grandfather was. However, something in me just wasn’t satisfied. I was intrigued to look into ancestry. Taking the time to research ancestry has incredible rewards; the stories are to be found are fascinating.

Prior to taking on the task of making up so many years’ worth of information about my grandfather, I just thought of my grandfather as another grandfather. As a child, I knew he was my grandpa and I knew he had died, but that didn’t mean much to me; I never really got to know him. The fact that he was my mom’s dad was present in my head, but not much else. It was almost like, “What does he mean to me? I never really knew him so--so what?”

After maturing, I have come to realize how large of a part my grandfather has played in my life. He was not just another man; he was Kenneth George DeCook, my grandfather, the father of my mother! He was family! Without him, where would I be now? Even though he is deceased, he still has played a bigger part in my life than one could imagine. Ken has told me, even after death, that family is incredibly important. Time with family is limited, so take what time there is. Talk to family and learn the stories of ancestors. Learn about grandparents' childhoods and their young-adult lives. Nothing can replace family, when they are gone, their physical bodies may be gone, but their memories live, and it is the younger generations’ duty to pass these memories on.

***I wrote this for a class during my Junior year of high school, September 2013 to be exact. These feelings all hold true for me to this day. If I had the ability to, I would delve as far into ancestry as possible!***