Robert Shirley

Today would have been my grandfather's 90th birthday.

I've always felt this bond with my grandfather, partly because I was named after him; my middle name is Robert.

My fondest memories of my grandfather revolve around a trip I made to visit my grandparents, when I was in college.

He took me to an Optimist Club meeting (he was a big Optimist Club guy). It was me and a bunch of retired guys, and they were all so eager to talk to the 20 year old college student. My grandfather looked so proud.

We also went to Red Lobster (the only time I've ever been to Red Lobster). He insisted I get a piece of Oreo cheesecake, after eating a big lunch. I did, because he was so insistent. I got sick after that, and haven't been to Red Lobster since. Anytime I see a Red Lobster, or an Oreo cheesecake, I think of him.

He also said something to me on that trip I will never forget.

Most people don't say "wow, you look like you dad", because I don't particularly look like him. On that trip, as I was sitting in my grandparents' living room, talking about whatever, he, out of the blue, said "you know, when you smile that way, you look just like Larry". That was the first time anyone told me that I looked like my dad, and it meant a lot to me that my father's father was the first to say that to me.

My grandfather was a quiet man, but you listened to him when he talked, not because he was my grandfather, but because what he said usually was something to remember, or important. I'd like to think I'm that way also. An MBA professor of mine told me once that he wished I talked more in class because what I said, the few times I spoke, was important for everyone to hear.

In grad school, a couple of years before my grandfather passed away, I yelled at a co-worker for her being annoying. Several people came up to me after and said they were so glad I did that, because she was getting on everyone's nerves, but when you get the quiet guy angry enough to tell you to shut up, they listen.

I never heard my grandfather yell at anyone, and I can't imagine what that would sound like, but I know if he did, everyone would listen.

Thinking of you, grandpa Shirley, and here's to hoping they "let us in the Lotus Inn".

Emily and Veronica, with Grandpa

Mother's Day

My mother and I (1976)

This is my first Mother's Day without my mother. I realize though, that the last time I spent Mother's Day with my mother was 1994, before I went off to college, so the holiday has always been a call, where I say "Happy Mother's Day" and then going on to talk about other things.

I don't think my mother really liked Mother's Day, at least she always seemed to bring up how much she didn't want us to make a big deal about it.

Every year, in late April, I would be talking to my parents on my weekly Sunday call to them, when my mother would say something like "Don't get me anything for Mother's Day this year, I don't want anything, expect peace on earth." I always had this idea of getting my mom a globe with peas glued to it, you know, "peas on earth". I feel like my dad may have given her something like that at some point, for some birthday or holiday.

Peas on Earth

This request every April was always followed by one of the following: me saying "it's too late, I already got you a gift", or (and this was more common) her comment would remind me that Mother's Day was around the corner, and my mind would start to race, wondering what I could get for the woman who wants nothing.

This year, as most other years, I didn't realize Mother's Day was coming, but this year, I didn't have my mom to remind me; I had my dad. I had no idea when Mother's Day was until my dad mentioned last week, that he needed to get a gift for my sister, celebrating her 3rd Mother's Day. I've seen cards in Target, ads for Mother's Day brunches, but it never occurred to me, like almost every other year, that Mother's Day was approaching.

In a way, I'm glad I can never seem to see Mother's Day approaching because then, maybe I won't feel the pain of not having my mother around on that day, when I would call, like I did every year, and say "Happy Mother's Day", and talk about the day for 10 seconds, then move on to talk about other things.

Like I said, I don't think my mother really liked Mother's Day, and she wouldn't want us to spend too much time making a big deal about it.

My mother and I (2007)