Bradley’s grandpa passed on last week on September third. This has been a pretty difficult week, saying goodbye to such a great man.

I remember when I first met Bradley and heard that he lived with his grandparents thinking it a little odd. The friends I had were hightailing it out of their parent’s houses as fast and they could and I couldn’t imagine why someone would want to live with their grandparents. Bradley’s grandparents are unique though. They not only welcomed him into their home, but also allowed his friends to come and go as they needed and every one calls them Grandpa and Grandma. The other choice, Mr. and Mrs. Kobs was and is rarely used. I think that speaks to the comfort, kindness and openness that was offered in the Kobs home. I remember hearing that Grandpa and Grandma allowed Bradley to hold band practice in their basement. LOUD band practice! LONG band practice! And these two elderly people not only allowed it, but they encouraged it!

So I came to know and love Grandma and Grandpa Kobs too. They allowed me to move into the extra bedroom for a year while Bradley and I worked to save enough to move to Bellingham. We took them on road trips to Seaside, Eastern Washington, Spokane and Disneyland. When we finally made the move to Bellingham, Grandpa hopped in the truck with me and kept me entertained with his own stories of moving out west in an old jalopy truck from Iowa to make a new life for himself. Often during those first few years Grandpa and Grandma would make their way north to spend a night or two with us in Bellingham and we would stay up late listening to Grandpa’s war stories, stories about the egg farm, their early marriage and their children. We even videotaped it.

I remember on the day I married Bradley when we were getting ready to leave. Everybody was waiting for us to come out so they could toss the birdseed. Grandpa, with the stroke he had suffered years before, was slowly making his way around the building to watch us leave. People were getting impatient, wondering why we weren’t leaving yet, but we wanted him to see us go like everyone else. And when he finally made it, we saw his grin flash and the hand that tossed a bit of birdseed out way. For some reason, that is one of my favorite memories of him.

My grandparents always lived so far away. In Oregon, Idaho, or they passed long before my arrival or shortly after. It wasn’t until I met Bradley’s grandparents that I knew how special and important a grandparent relationship could be. They were and are my closest grandparents and I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to know them. Grandpa was incredibly kind and helpful and loved his family in a masculine and accepting way. I loved Grandpa and already miss him terribly. I’ll miss how much he loved my husband and my babies. And I will miss the way he allowed me to love him. My Bradley is a lot like him and I feel lucky that Grandpa Kobs was such a powerful model for him. The result is that I have an incredibly kind, compassionate husband with a can-do attitude, just like his grandfather.

The following is the obituary from the Seattle times:
Carl Wilhelm Kobs was born in Hancock, Iowa on June 16, 1916. He passed away from complications of mesothelioma on Sept 3, 2008 at the age of 92. Carl was a veteran of WWII decorated with the purple heart, a farmer by birth and welder by trade, he shared the gifts of his charm and humor with all who knew him. Beloved patriarch to his family, Carl is survived by his wife of 64 years Alouise, son Gary, daughters Jeanie, Sheri & Julie, grandchildren Bradley, Christy, Jason, Brandon & Lisa as well as two great grandchildren Guinevere & Jude. Carl will be remembered for his strength of spirit, compassion, can-do nature, and lovely singing voice. A memorial service will be held at Acacia Memorial Park (14951 Bothell Way NE) at 1:30 on Saturday September 13th.

His kindness and generosity were only superseded by his manners and good looks.

We’ll be seeing you in the funny pages, Grandpa!