Friday, April 12, 2002

Grandpa Clem and the Mountain

Grandpa Clem is a kind and gentle man, and my family and I love him very much. I hope he doesn't take offense at finding himself exposed in our weekly mailer, but he had to know that there was a strong possibility that I would eventually get around to him. Many an unsuspecting customer, friend, relative, etc. has found their personal quirks, comments or situations presented in an unabashed commentary in our own unique perspective. Steve and I have to come up with a story every week, so it is not unusual for us to sacrifice someone just for the sake of getting a story out on time. To call him Grandpa may not be quite appropriate, because Clem is really my father-in-law. I call my father "Dad" so that label didn't work; "Clem" was too informal and sounded a bit disrespectful, so I was at a loss how to address him. "Grandpa" seemed the natural moniker since that is how his many grandchildren endearingly refer to him. Since he doesn't seem to mind that title, he became "Grandpa Clem." Now that everyone is up to speed I can continue my discourse.

It is not unusual for Laurie, the kids, and me to travel to Monticello for Sunday dinner with her parents. It is a short drive, and Grandma Washburn is an excellent cook; so Sunday dinners at their house make for a filling, lazy evening in a pleasant atmosphere. After dinner Grandpa settles back into his Lazy Boy recliner, tunes in the TV and begins switching through a number of channels. I say a number of channels because Grandpa is a channel surfer. He holds sway over the remote control and has a habit of putting the television set through a brisk workout. Whenever a commercial comes on, it is off to a different station to check what is occurring there. In order to keep up with current events, scores and updates, one has to maintain a high level of surfing agility. You have to be sharp to watch TV in this manner; an excellent memory, quick wits and patience are essential. It really gets interesting when Grandpa falls asleep. He generally does so with the remote resting on the arm of his chair and his finger poised over the channel button. I am sure that it is by reflex alone that the channels continue to roll by, only now there is no rhyme or reason to when a change occurs. When this situation came about last Sunday we were watching an interesting documentary on the discovery channel; the next thing we knew the television was switching channels to Grandpa's biorhythms. As I lunged for the remote Laurie caught me in a head lock that would have made Hulk Hogan proud. It's funny how a woman has the ability to anticipate your reactions after just a few years together, well actually more than just a few. Grandpa was roused by the scuffle. I smiled innocently at him as Laurie released her grip and I wondered how such a skinny woman had gained so much power. Grandpa eyed me curiously, shook his head and asked if we wanted to take a ride up the mountain.

Aah! An offer of relief. . . relief from an over active television set and the quick reflexes of my wife. My darling children had been witness to their mother's over-reaction in front of the TV and decided to come along so as to not miss an opportunity to harass me. Laurie and her mother came along as well; I assumed part of the reason was to protect the kids from me and my habit of wrestling with them while driving. I decided to ignore the little heathens and enjoy the ride. Besides, I knew that I would have ample opportunity to pick them off one at a time later in the day. As we drove up the mountain road Grandpa began to share his love of the land with us. Clem has been a rancher for over 50 years and has developed an almost symbiotic relationship with nature. He is a walking encyclopedia when it comes to the names of plants, animals, and relationships of living organisms with their environments. It is always a pleasure to travel with Grandpa, since he is an excellent teacher. I always enjoy his personal association with his surroundings. Clem spoke of the drought the land was trying to recover from as we made our way up the western slope; it was as if he felt for the parched earth and experienced relief when moisture arrived. The sun was setting behind the peaks as we moved towards them; it was truly a beautiful evening. As we came to the top of the road, where snow blocked further advancement, we turned around to retrace our path. Facing east towards Colorado and the tiny town of Monticello, Clem brought to our attention the shadow of night spreading before us across the land. You could actually witness dusk reclaiming the countryside, bringing about an even more peaceful aura to our surroundings.

As we moved down the mountainside the lights of my wife's childhood hometown blinked on; they hardly disturbed the twilight. I grew quiet, and simply admired the beauty of the scene, committing it to memory to reflect on when I might need a calming image in stressful times. Grandpa Clem's discourse concerning nature's subtle nuances and her many blessings to those willing to appreciate them are not uncommon to those closely related to the world about them. Steve and I see it quite often in the older Navajo people who come into the trading post. Their connection to the land is of the same kind. They were raised on and with the land and the land is within them; just as it is with Grandpa Clem. What is unusual is when a human being becomes so in tune with the natural world that they eloquently express their love and emotion for it without even being aware of it. Grandpa Clem will be 80 years old in May. I hope that he lives to be at least 100, because I have not finished learning what he has to teach. Re-entering the driveway to Grandpa and Grandma's house and anticipating dessert I still felt the calm, peaceful mood our conversation and the mountain had provided. I also clearly remembered being verbally abused by my children the whole trip. I bailed out of the van in an attempt to seek retribution for their misdeeds. The kids had anticipated my reaction and dispersed in three different directions; I began a seek and retaliate mission.

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