What's Danish For Grandfather?
The kids--almost all of them--visited grandma and grandpa today and my youngest joined his grandfather at his desk in his office. I snapped a couple of pictures.
My parents were older when they had me and my siblings, and I was older (by Utah standards...) when my first son was born. Subsequently, I only knew one of my grandparents, my mother's father (or morfar in Danish...), and I only knew him for 10 years. I do have fond memories of the man, a unassuming, quiet dairy farmer who lived in one of the prettiest (and coldest...) places on earth, Teton Valley, Idaho.
I never met my father's parents. In fact, my mom never met them. They had both died before she met my father. It's hard for me to imagine that my grandfather, my father's father (or farfar in Danish...) was born in the 1880's. He was gone long before I arrived.
My children knew my mother (my kid's farmor in Danish...), but my youngest was only three when she passed away and none of my kids ever met my father. Too bad. I'm sure we'd all like to know him better. My kids do have a grandfather and grandmother left and I'm so grateful that they have them in their lives. And today I was grateful a grandson got to spend some time with his grandfather (or his morfar in Danish...).