Today my grandpa, Elmer Becker, passed away. I am sad that he died. Not because he was a great man whom I will miss, but because I never got to know whether he was a great man or not. I've never met the man.

My grandma and him divorced long before I was born. Family stories go that he was a drunk that had no problem raising his hand to either his wife or his children. I grew up hearing my dad's story about when his dad threw him out a window for putting too much ketchup on his plate. When I lived in Cold Spring, I found out more about him. The man who owned the store where I rented my first apartment knew him. My grandma and him owned a gas station/bar in town. He said that both of my grandparents liked to drink. My grandpa did have a temper, but when he was sober, he was a good man. He told me a story of when a man fell into the river and my grandpa went in after him and pulled him out. I guess my grandpa lost his shoes in the process!

I know that everyone has a past and most include things that we may not be proud of. I don't judge this man I never met. I feel empathy towards him for not getting to know the kind of adults his kids turned out to be. For never getting to know his grand and great-grandkids. I looked him up a couple of times and was going to contact him. That's when my aunt told me she had and that he did not want anything to do with anyone. He had remarried and had kids with his second wife. That is the only life he wanted to be a part of. I took her statement at face value and didn't press the issue. Now I don't have the chance. I would like to meet my 1/2 aunts/uncles and any cousins I may have. If only once, so that I can learn more about this man that helped create my dad. I would think that they would want to meet my grandpa's "first" family.

I'm going to keep an eye out for his obituary. Since I never got to see him in life, death may be my only chance.


I don't want my kids to ever have a grandparent die not knowing them. I've seen it to often. Now I'm living it. I don't ever want them to go to a funeral thinking " I didn't even really know this person." I am incredibly fortunate that I was close to the grandparents I've lost thus far. Not that I would wish to lose them, but that I don't have any regrets of not knowing them. I spent time with them all. Helped care for them when I could. Really talked to them and got to know them as a person. Not just (excuse the way I'm wording this) "old people" or ancients. They were all young once. They all have a story to tell. They have been through everything we have, are, or will go through. They are the keepers of the past, full of wisdom. Sometimes, they are our biggest role models in this thing we call "life".