Gustav Fredrich Wegner, 1879-1959
I am feeling a lonely spot in my heart today. It is my grandfather’s birthday. Here is a excerpt from my journal about him. I wrote it about two years ago, on his birthday, so that my grandchildren could know something of my heritage. Grandpa read in his Bible everyday. I remember many things about him because we lived in the same house.
“As I grew older and into my teens, I didn’t follow Grandpa around as much. He would ask me to come work in the garden with him, and I did, but if he didn’t ask, I would bury my nose in a book. Now I regret it. Had I understood how much he loved me and wanted my company, I would have given up the pleasure of reading. His steps grew slower and slower, and Dad opened soil near the house for a garden so Grandpa would not walk so far. We all shared the garden responsibility then and Dad turned the field garden into potatoes each year. We started to getting the potatoes up from the cellar for him to peel. One of the last things I remember his doing before his stroke was sitting out under the box elder tree shelling peas from the garden. The next morning he didn’t come downstairs, and when Daddy went to check on him, Grandpa’s speech was slurred and there was no movement on one side of his body. Five days later he left us. As I write this, a big hole in my heart opened up. I cannot hold back the tears. That wonderful man is responsible for teahing me to appreciate simplicity. I love him still.
Gustav Fredrich Wegner: August 17, 1879 to June 5, 1959
Just offering you a piece of my heart today.
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