(Not my typical article, but, my sister organized all my grandfathers journals from his time growing up and his service in WWII. She wanted family members to write memories of him. This is my submission.)
My grandad would often show up at my house, early on a summer day while I was still asleep. My mom would quickly get me out of bed and dressed and push me out the door to spend the day with him. I grew up on my grandad's farm and it was a regular occurrence that I would spend the day driving around, in and out of the city and and anywhere else he was headed. Mostly, though, we watered the garden, moved hay around, and picked up and dropped off stuff. Occasionally we went to cattle auctions, visited any number of the people my grandad new, random business deals, or dropped by the votech school where he sometimes worked. I never questioned how he could be semi-retired and still be as busy as he was.
While it was mostly chores, it was never boring. That is mainly due to the unending amount of practical jokes we played on each other. My favorite was when I would wait in the car for him when he ran in somewhere and I would turn up the radio full blast, switch on the wipers and hazards and move his seat back. Watching him jump every time he turned on the car and everything kicked in at once was just plane comedic genius in my little kid opinion. Another overly used prank was turning on the water sprinkler when we were in the garden whenever my grandad walked near it. This usually devolved quickly into both of us just soaking the other one with a hose.
It was years before I realized, my grandad didn't really get scared from the loud radio multiple times a day, but, that he wanted to see me crack up laughing when he jumped. Even more amazing, since my grandad didn't live on the farm with us, but in the city, he would have to spend the rest of the day and his drive home in soaking wet clothes before he could get dry after our water fights. He might be to this day, the only adult I have ever met, myself included, that would not only willingly spend a day in wet clothes, but, do it over and over just to make a little kid happy. Mainly, though, I thought I was actually helping him on these days, that I was doing real work. We would always stop at a little store on the way home and he would let me pick out a soft drink as "payment" for helping that day. In hindsight, it might seem like a Mountain Dew might be a slight underpayment for a days work, but, then considering the net gain of my helping was that my grandad got a lot less work done, I probably came out ahead.
When I think about what were the most important days in my life, or the days I would go back and do again if I had the chance, there is a long list: vacations, weddings, kids, honeymoon. Most of the times I think about had something in common, though, I was aware that they were important while they were happening. The days that don't fit that description are the days I spent with my grandad when I was little. Their importance grew over the years as I realized how lucky I was for those days.
