A Slice of Pie. A Slice of Life. The Legacy of Grampys.

As I age, now in the back nine of my life, the tug of nostalgia gets stronger.  Recalling deep-seated memories allows me to be transported back to a simpler time when life was still in front of me.  You never know when something will literally jump out at you and evoke emotions from your youth. 

Recently, while walking the aisles of Stop & Shop on a quick grocery run (10 items or less, of course), my attention shifted from the shopping task at hand to a freestanding end-cap display of individual size Table Talk pies.  Instantly, visions of my beloved Grampy filled my mind.  We were peas and carrots long before Forest and Jenny.  Back in the 60s he launched my lifelong love affair with pies of all kinds.  My Grampy had the ultimate sweet tooth as my grandmother baked countless pies and cakes for him.  Fortunately, his business of running a nursery helped burn the calories off his large frame.  My grandmother died when I was young, passing before I had the opportunity to really know her.  Grampy suddenly became a widower and needed a way to satisfy his pie fix and someone to share it with.  I filled that void. 

I would often spend weekends with him watching NFL football in his living room filled with issues of the Wall Street Journal piled high like NY skyscrapers.  We peered around the newspapers to watch our beloved NY Giants, hoping against hope they’d somehow find a way to win.  Often a weekend highlight was a trip to the Table Talk pie plant in our town.  We’d return home with two or three pies.  On a Saturday, it wasn’t unusual to have a slice with lunch, one with dinner and again another as a late-night snack.  As a 10-year-old, this was nirvana.  We loved it, and what my Mom didn’t know didn’t hurt.  My Grampy and I laughed, joked and lived the best grandson/grandfather life.  Nothing extraordinary, just the two of us sharing a good time and a slice of pie. 

Grampy and I traveled together extensively from yearly trips to Florida to a two-month excursion across the European continent in 1969.  The pastry shops of France provided a “sweet” experience, but we were forced to point a finger to our choice of treats.  Neither of us could speak a lick of French.  I learned how to read a map while he drove us around in a Simca – a 60s French car model that’s now in automobile heaven.  We walked Omaha beach at Normandy and viewed the crosses on graves of soldiers as far as my young eyes could see.  Those scenes left an indelible mark on a 13-year-old as taught to me by a WWI veteran.  The images of these trips are etched in my memory.  True Kodachrome moments. 

I lost my beloved Grampy in 1976 during my sophomore year in college.  He died suddenly the day he was being moved to an assisted living facility.  Something tells me he knew his pie choices were going to be limited.  I never lost my love for him, or pies.  In some small way, having a slice of pie serves to keep his memory alive.  I even kept his AL 482 (American Legion) plate on my first car – his kick ass 1965 Buick Wildcat with “power windows” that was given to me upon his passing.

Today I continue to harken back when I head into our wonderful local pie establishment, Oronoque Farms, especially for pumpkin at this time of year.  The intoxicating aroma of pies baking when you open the screen door always transports me back.

Today I’m a Grampy – my proudest and best title ever.  I didn’t want to be called Grandpa or Pop.  It had to be Grampy.  It keeps his memory alive.  The master class taught by my Grampy about how to be a grandfather I now try to apply with my four grandkids.  We laugh, goof around and generally experience life across our generations.  I’ve learned that you can never have too many people who love you.  I also share a passion for gardening that came from spending time with my Grampy, a nurseryman.  Two Grampys spanning generations, trying to be the best grandparent and leaving their mark.  It’s my way to honor a man who made a significant positive impact on my life. 

Fall is my favorite season.  Pumpkin and apple crumb pies rule the season in my opinion.  I’m hoping my birthday celebration this month includes a pie.  Cake is great but pies rule.  I’ll have a piece for you Grampy.  Or maybe two if no one’s looking!