Emma, Grandpa, Hannah
RIP Russel C. Bunning (1919-2014)
My mother asked me to speak for our side of the family at today’s memorial service a couple days ago. I paused, stammered and said I thought Tom would do it. Mom responded Tom would be reading a scripture. I said I can read.
As we got closer to today, I found myself reflecting more and more on Grandpa Russ.
In our family, my siblings and I referred to Russ as Big Grandpa. My father’s parents were short and my mother’s were tall. Somehow, we got big and little out of this.
I fondly remember every inch of the farm house and our time there as grand-kids. On our visits there were many Christmases in the cherry room (with the piano that was off limits), special birthday parties in the dining room, breakfast cereal above the stove just for grand-kids, a beautiful staircase to the second floor—that still appears occasionally in my dreams—and grandpa’s office in the hallway connecting the cherry room to Grandma’s study/sitting room.
I recall spending time in the large laundry room listening to the adults talk and grandpa conduct business on the phone. At some point at each visit the men would go out to see the animals and I would often accompany them. I loved standing in the barn hearing Grandpa talk about the sheep, walking over the hill to check on the cows and, on warm days, touring the gardens.
His eyes would light up as he spoke and you could hear the tenderness in his tone.
When it was apparent that Grandpa was going to pass a week ago I began grieving. I debated if I should travel to see him at the hospital in his last days or hold on to my last memory of him playing with my niece Allison and sharing his box of Christmas chocolates with me. I selfishly decided to keep my memory of my last moments with him. My husband, Stephen, reminded me during this time that we should be celebrating Russ’ life.
In reading his obituary I learned things I never knew, like that he taught school for two years, had a career with Ohio Farm Bureau, or that he sold insurance. I always think of his real-estate days. As a kid, I recall going downtown to visit his office and then going by the bakery with Grandma for a treat. Of course, the nail-files advertising ABC Real Estate that appeared in our Christmas stocking for years to come were also good reminders.
My family remembers Grandpa for his love of treats like coffee with sugar and cream, chocolates—specifically buckeyes—and maybe a 7/7 when he could sneak it.
He would want us to continue to indulge, now and again, in things that make life a little sweeter.
What stood out to me the most was his touch. Touch—it’s something that allows us to connect to others and express affection in a way that cannot otherwise be duplicated. Grandpa would greet you with a hug and a kiss when you arrived and squeeze your hand to let you know how much he loved you. I will never forget his ability to show affection and express his love.
As we celebrate Russ Bunning, a.k.a Big Grandpa, I invite you to indulge in a little cream and sugar with your coffee, or an occasional 7/7. Show those you love you care for them.
Life is happening now.
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