Grandpa Gideon

Grandpa Gideon was a wonderful man! He was my grandpa on my mom's side. He loved us and we had so much fun when he was around! He had a great sense of humor and it was apparent that he enjoyed kids, lots of kids.

He and Grandma Gideon had divorced way before I was ever born. That is a long story. It is their story, and not one to be told here. Suffice to say that it literally broke apart a family in ways that I don't think we've ever recovered from. We didn't get to see him more than a few times a year. He was remarried to Grandma Phyllis, who also adored us!

Grandpa Gideon was quite a guy. He had lost his right arm in a hunting accident when he was about 18 years old. His kids and grandkids never knew him WITH an arm. He was a postman, and he learned to do his job with one arm. He was quite a trooper. He learned to tie his shoes and there wasn't anything I ever saw him not be able to do. Determined, he was.

One day, during the depression (when he and Grandma were still married), he came home from work with a watermelon. I don't know if he "found" it or if he had gone into a field and gotten it, but whatever the reason, he had a watermelon. Now my grandma loved watermelon.

He had carried it home (one arm, mind you) all the way across town--maybe an hours walk or so, in the scorching summer sun and arrived at the front door--sweating, panting, and with his arm about to break from carrying this bulky thing. My grandma stood at the front door, jumping up and down and exclaiming, "Oh, Horace! You have a watermelon! You have a watermelon!"

He replied something like, "Yes! Could you please take it before I drop it?"

It was funny how he handled each of us grandkids as we became "aware" that he didn't have an arm. It usually happened sometime around the age of four as I recall. It would go something like this:

Four Year Old: Grandpa, your arm is gone!

Grandpa: What? My arm is gone? Where is it?

Four Year Old: I don't know! It's gone!

Grandpa: We should look for it! We need to find it!

He was quite a guy, my Grandpa!

He endured much in his lifetime, and continued to be courageous, positive, and loving throughout all of it. He was an amazing guy, and my mom adored her dad. He died in 1990. I think he was about 90 years old or something. My only regret is that I wish I would have known him better.