My Grandfather’s Ten Commandments
By Carole Wagener, Coastal Dunes Branch
My grandfather, George, was a lean wiry man of German descent born on Ground Hogs Day on February 2, 1882, in Forestville, Wisconsin. I respected the fact that he knew how to live off the land and had Midwestern work ethics.
Grandpa loved to garden. As a youngster, I sat and watched him work in his vegetable and berry garden as I played with my baby dolls under the branches of his weeping willow tree. Grandfather had planted it from a small twig. Over the years, I saw that tree grow up quickly as did I.
In springtime, Grandpa raised rabbits and I entrusted him with my rapidly growing white Easter bunny. I soon realized Mr. Bunny would end up on Grandpa’s dining table! During the summer, Grandpa loved to go pan fishing on the West Alaska Lake. Sometimes he would take me along but I always had to promise to be quiet so I didn’t scare the fish. In autumn, he hunted deer. The deer provided meat and sausage for the winter months.
Grandfather had a shock of white hair which matched his white moustache and had bright blue eyes that twinkled. He was a man of few words and never cursed. Swearing was strictly verboten (forbidden) at Grandpa’s house. On Sundays, he drove his 1951 Henry J Kaiser turquoise sedan (with the bottom rusting out) to join us at church.
Grandpa had a tradition of making his own dandelion wine. He allowed the dandelions to grow on his front lawn and we grandchildren picked the blossoms. I hated that annual job as it took forever to pick them. Their weedy hollow stems turned my fingers into a sticky brown mess but Grandma rewarded us with a dime which we spent on candy.
At Christmas time, my family sat patiently in the parlor while Grandpa carried the glass jug of wine up the steep steps from the basement cellar. Grandpa’s shaky hand poured out the white sweet wine into a shot glass and handed it to me. I drank it down in one gulp. It felt like fire going down my throat and suddenly, I became light headed and giggly. I laughed and remembered picking all those nasty yellow dandelions. I felt a warm glow upon my face and the special feeling in my heart of being with my family. I glanced out the frosty old window pane and saw that winter was upon us now. I realized these happy days at Grandpa’s house would too soon end.
Grandfather died of cancer at the age of 86, caused by chewing tobacco. I remember ten very valuable things I learned from him.
My Grandfather’s Ten Commandments
- Live frugally and save that silver dime.
- Enjoy a small amount of wine.
- Avoid tobacco products.
- Plant a garden.
- Go fishing with your grandchildren.
- Attend church on Sunday.
- Keep your old car running.
- Don’t swear or curse.
- Enjoy family traditions.
- Please don’t eat my bunnies.
Carole Wagener is currently writing her
first novel based on her husband’s letters
to her from Viet Nam and her time at college
during the anti-war demonstrations in the 1960s.