My grandpa last year, on his 81st birthday, at his favorite restaurant, Hyde Park, with his favorite dessert, an Irish coffee.
My grandpa, William Dean Nonnamaker, had a really interesting life. He was born during the Great Depression on a kitchen table in a farmhouse in northwestern Ohio. (The name his parents gave him at birth was "Billy Dean" Nonnamaker, but he changed it to William as soon as he turned 18-- he thought "Billy Dean" sounded too immature.) His family grew corn and wheat, and raised hogs and cattle- just enough to get by. He and his brother Eldon helped out as they grew up, and Grandpa used to tell us stories of life growing up on a working farm.
His parents, in a rather unorthodox way for the time, told him he should never feel "tied" to the farm, and should do whatever he wanted with his life. As a result, my grandpa attended college and entered the business world, where he was extremely successful. He never lost his farm roots, however, and later in life, the farm would be passed down to him. He and my grandma moved there after he retired, and some of my favorite memories are of visiting them, taking rides in the tractor and exploring the extensive farmland. There is an old American Indian burial mound on the farm, and we used to find arrowheads and knife blades from centuries past.
While another family took care of the crop planting and harvesting as a full time job, my grandpa was extremely proud of his massive vegetable garden in the yard of the farmhouse. I remember eating fresh peas, tomatoes and cucumbers picked from the garden as a kid.
When each of their four grandchildren turned 10 years old, my grandparents promised us each a trip anywhere we wanted in the continental U.S. I chose the Grand Canyon, and had one of the most memorable trips of my life with Grandpa Bill and Grandma Marilyn.
Some of my other favorite memories with my grandpa and the rest of my family are of northern Michigan. In the 1970s, my grandpa and his brother bought a cottage on a small lake in northwestern Michigan, in the town of Honor. The lake, called Platte Lake, became synonymous with summer fun as I grew up. Later, my grandpa bought his own cottage and a pontoon boat, and every 4th of July was (and still is) spent up on the lake with my many cousins, aunts, uncles and family swimming, having bonfires, and doing each of many little traditions that have been established over the years.
After my grandpa passed away, each of the four grandchildren got a letter from him. He had written in back in 2008, when he originally got the diagnosis of his disease. (Luckily, he was incredibly healthy and able until the final few days of his life, four years after being told he had only a few months to live.) The three page long letter was full of life advice, from a man who had an incredibly happy and fulfilled life. At the end of the letter, his final piece of advice stuck out to me-- "Love deeply. With love, we are whole." My grandpa's life was full of love- from his wife of nearly 60 years to his two daughters, to his brother and his family, to his four grandchildren and countless nieces, nephews and grand-nieces and nephews, to his many many close friends. I recently got this quote tattooed on my side. Tattoos are my way of remembering important people and times in my life, and I look forward to getting more as soon as I have the funds!
Fresh ink! I don't know that my grandpa completely approved of tattoos, but
I think he would've been flattered and happy that I gt this for him :)
Miss you, Grandpa!
My grandpa was such an inspiration. He traveled (he'd been to nearly every country); he painted (oh yeah, he was an accomplished watercolorist); he cared about his family and provided for us all; he was passionate about history and learning; he knew how to have fun. I will always know how lucky I was to have such an amazing grandfather, and remember all that he taught me.
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