Happy Birthday in Heaven

 

Grandpa Lachmayer. He would drop whatever he was doing to do anything for anybody. Worked every day that he could doing horrible jobs in the tanneries. I'm sure it killed him in the end. Sometimes I walked through the woods to the mill to find him hauling on the heavy, nasty, hides, dragging them out of whatever they were soaking in, working on the process of making leather. Even on holidays. Often he would be the only man there, called in to do something for the big boss that no one else wanted to do.

I learned rhubarb and red currants at his knee and still have descendants of his rhubarb, as well as a patch of currants, growing in the yard here.

If I broke down somewhere bitd...and with the pathetic cars I drove it happened often....I could always call on him for rescue. It was the same with everyone he knew. If he could help he did.

There is no doubt in my mind about his current address.