Tuesday, November 11, 2014

In Rememberance

We called him Poppa with the funny shoe. He had nicotine stained fingers, large glasses and he loved to garden.

His attestation papers describe him as having a fair complexion, brown hair and blue eyes, 5 feet 11.

He was 19 when he signed up in 1917 according to his war records. As a rural boy, whom was needed to help his mother and brothers run the farm, it was not expected that he enlist. In fact none of his brothers did until after George signed up. His older brother Lynden followed him into service in 1918.

George Thomas Jenings
He was gassed over there. My Nana says that every winter he had a chest infection. Colds settling into the scars he came home with. He was one of the lucky ones. He came home. His brother Lynden died of Influenza before being able to come home.

He had 4 children, my Nana the youngest, lots of Grandchildren, lots and lots of Great Grandchildren and now Great Great Grandchildren.

Dad, Nana, Me, Poppa Jenings,Patti and Danny.
He loved gadgets. The family farm had a Delco plant (a generator) long before the electric lines were brought out.

He loved to dance with my Great Nana. She would close her eyes and allow George to lead her.

He fancied himself a handy man. Because he was a lefty he always hooked up the hot and cold water backwards. Once he had hot water running in the toilet.

My most vivid memory of him: is of him in the hospital following hip surgery (not his first and also why he had to wear a raised shoe). I was between 6 and 8 and I was with my Uncle Dave -whom was visiting from university- and Poppa Jenings wanted to show Uncle Dave his incision. He lifted the sheet and beckoned Uncle Dave over. I was to stand on my side of the bed, it was not for young ladies to see. I got the impression that my Uncle Dave didn't really want to see it and I felt that the incision was wasted on him. I really wanted to see it. I thought of him the first time I ever had to remove staples from a hip incision.

He spent many winters in Florida. He was my first miracle, he'd had a stroke when away one year and I prayed that he would live and he did, for many years after. He died when he was 96.

In a way he fought so that I could travel all over the world,so that my sister Katie could spend a year in Spain. He fought for peace, he fought for choice. In a way he fought so I could go to nursing school, so I could own my own home, so I could have the choice to have a baby on my own  if I wanted.

Today I remember him. Today I remember them.

Me and Poppa Jenings

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