Lent Letter #22

Dear Grandpa Moris,

Thinking of you always brings a smile to my face. You were the oddest guy I know. You had all these sayings and quotes and pranks and games that we still use and quote to this day. It’s been more than 10 years since you died, but you most certainly live on in your family.

Down goes the meathouse. I still say that when one of the kids falls down. We still tease them and pick on them. Like you did to us when we were kids. I see a lot of you in my dad. The way he reacts to his grandchildren is similar to the way you were with us. The way he hoards things is definitely like you.

When I get to work on Monday mornings, I have to organize the weekend papers. I have to go through the Sunday paper from both Mpls and St. Paul and remove all the ads and put the sections in order (did you know they don’t come in order? That’s so weird.). Every Monday I think of you. How you’d read the paper all day on Sunday, every single word. And look at every single ad. It took you hours, but you did it, week after week.

Last summer, I stopped at Hagberg’s for groceries and the woman checking me out looked at the name on my card and said “are you related to the Moris’ in Lake Elmo?” I said yes and we did the whole “who are your people?” conversation. I always begin with you and Grandma.

She said, “Oh! I knew your grandfather. He used to walk up here and buy snacks.” And it made me laugh. Because you did used to do that. You used to walk everywhere. It was all the more heartbreaking when you lost your legs. Also I was surprised that her memory of you was from so very long ago. But even people I’ve never met remember you.

You were a big personality. A force. No one was around you and didn’t remember you. It just wasn’t possible.

I remember you. I think of you often. I smile when I catch myself emulating you. And then I do it again.

Thank you for being part of my life,



(to see why I am doing this, read here)


P.S. He was the ONLY person in the world that called me Ollie. And for those of you reading. No. You may not start calling me that.


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