Saturday, October 11, 2008

An Old Damn Fisherman...


Sittin' up Now in some fancy boat
a pile of walleye caught
no limits

Blatz in a Brown Bottle
A jar of pickles at his feet
Be careful
The other jar is leeches
And there are minnows hanging off the back of the boat


But the Lake smells like a Lake
And the fish are Biting Fine

All Fish Stories Are True
Even when none of 'em are


Did You know the my Grandad grew the best tomatoes?
Drove a riding lawnmower over perfect grass?
Had a buzzcut?
Took us troll-hunting
in a white pick-up?

Trolls live under all the country bridges in Southern Minnesota.

We used to all pile into his Giant chair
whenever he got up
He'd find us there,

Laughing

Tell Me a Story...
Even my own babies did the same.


Pickles. Grandad's Pickles!
A secret Cow, kept in the shed?
Never saw him, only heard the moooooooo...
Hmmm.


He loved birds.
Suet, seed, the red liquor of the humming bird
all called to Grandad's Yard
where he'd swear at the starlings for making a mess,
Cursing Rabbits
preying on young lettuce.

Damn Deer.


Refill all the feeders.
Plant extra.
Build a better fence.


Beer Battered Perch!
Apples in BIG bags.
He claimed to have caught out the Easter Bunny...
Mercy shown...only the tail blown.


The last time I saw him
he was helping my Grandma carefully outside
to sit and sip the Cuba Libra (Diet Coke, Rum, Lime) he made her
Everyday at 5 pm.

Where she told him ghost stories that he hated
But he loved her so.
So.


Tomatoes.
Green Beans.
Out picking vegetables with his great-grandkids just last month.

Field and Stream.
Tired Marine.
Out of Breath, now.


My Grandad
We Loved you SO.
So.
With much love, tears, and appreciation for the wonderful person he was, we say a final Goodbye to my Grandad...or Grandad Dan as my kids called him...never Grandpa, because as he said, he wasn't a Pa...he was a Dad. Daniel Studelska listened more than he talked, loved to fish and hunt, had a wicked sense of humor, made the best pickles in the universe and was out in his large garden every day the weather allowed it. He used to pay us a penny for every lap we ran around the house. He claimed to know Santa personally and introduced us to the "fact" that Santa had a dog. As they say...He was "a man among men".
Chandra Fischer
headed home again.


3 comments:

Bridget Schumacher said...

Hi Chandra
So sorry to hear about your Grandad. Sounds like he was a truly wonderful man and will be dearly missed. Wish I could've seen you while you were back and given you a hug. Hope your travels went well.
xoxo,
Bridget

Bob said...

thanks Bridget :-) I'll take the cyber hug, anyway.

Chandra

Anonymous said...

Dear Chandra,
The love for your Grandad is palbable, how lucky you were to have each other. The gift of a grandparent is never ending, he will companion with you all of your days and trust me, I know this for sure, you will never stop missing him or knowing how lucky you were to have him!
with love and compassion Pat Falls Robinette (I took my Gramma's last name!)