Today is the fifth anniversary of my grandfather’s death. He lived to 106, so his memory has pretty much stuck like glue. Plus, he was pretty amazing (anecdotes and pictures about his life can be found on my Q&A page—scroll down to the second question). My grandmother, his wife, was amazing, too. She lived to nearly 89, dying at 88 a month short of her birthday while I was pregnant with Youngest Son. Her funeral was on Eldest Son’s 2nd birthday. Which means she died in 1990. Kind of hard to forget attending your grandmother’s funeral on your son’s birthday.
“Granny and Grampa” were an incredible couple. I grew up (1) down the road from them until I was 5; and then (2) next door to them until I left home. Grampa was pretty stubborn, so he needed a strong woman as his mate. And Clara E. Sigalet Procter was about as strong as they came. Not to mention beautiful. Here’s their wedding portrait:
They eloped in 1924 or 1925. And were married around 60 years. That I remember because they held a huge square dance for their anniversary, and as the evening ended Grampa joined the grandchildren in drinking out of the punchbowl.
I can’t remember what the E. in Granny’s middle name stood for. She hated the name, so rarely divulged it.
Grampa didn’t have a middle name. He was just William Procter, nicknamed Duke, son of William George Procter and Hannah Fry Procter of “Mable Lake” in B.C., Canada.
R.I.P. Grampa. R.I.P. “Granny Next Door.”
I still miss them both.