The Green, Green Grapes of Home

One of my co-workers was kind enough to buy a bag of green seedless grapes for me from the "garden market" at work today, and it reminded me of this story.

When I was born, I was the first grandchild to my mother’s parents. As with many other such eldest, it became my unwitting task to name the grandparents. Would they become Grandma and Grandpa? Nana and Pappa? My grandmother pushed for "Gamsie," so it’s for the best that she didn’t prevail.

Language skills started early for me, which should come as no surprise to those who know me. Language dexterity, however, was slower to develop. One area in which I had a great deal of difficulty was the correct pronunciation of "gr" at the beginning of a word. I became convinced that "gr" sounded exactly like "b."

Thus, my grandparents became Bemama and Bepop. And evermore shall be.

I have many stories to tell about Bemama, who, at 87, is still going strong. Today's, however, is about Bepop.

Bepop was 10 days shy of 50 when I was born, and a prouder grandfather you’d be hard pressed to find. Bemama was learning photography when I was small, so naturally I became her favorite subject, and Bepop very often shared the frame. She took many wonderful pictures, but one in particular stands out in my memory:




In this shot, Bepop is settled into his recliner, with me tucked in next to him. I was about 4 years old. In Bepop’s lap is a bowl of grapes. Grapes were among his favorite snacks, second only to bananas; diagnosed with diabetes shortly before I was born, he turned to fruit to satisfy his sweet tooth. He would eat nearly any kind of grape, but when he was sharing with me, they were always seedless, and almost always green.

I, of course, didn’t call them grapes. I called them beeps.

In this picture, my attention is riveted on the bowl of "beeps," and Bepop’s concentration is focused on the single tiny fruit in his hand. He’s holding his pocketknife (now one of my treasured keepsakes), carefully removing the peel. Back then, I didn’t like the peels.

"Bepop," I’d say, "Peel me a beep." He never could resist.

~~~

Bepop died in 1997. He was 78 years old.

Every time I eat green grapes, it's in his memory.