How did Lorna feel about her paternal grandfather?
I liked Grandpa well enough. He laughed way more than Grandma did, which is to say he laughed. Not all the time, but at least I knew he could. There was a lot of metal where his teeth should have been. He was a dentist, so I figured he practiced doing fillings and other dental procedures on himself. When he laughed, he could laser your eye out if a ray of sun caught one of his metal teeth just right.
Grandpa was a big man. I was a little girl, so every adult seemed big, but he was extra large. His size made me nervous and his Grandpa-ness made me curious. He was the man of the house; there was no man in my house. I didn’t know how to behave around him, except to keep quiet, polite and awestruck.
Grandpa liked me because I was smart. Mom told me I impressed him with quips to questions he asked when I was really young. She said he liked to bait me with trick questions and delighted at my quick-witted answers. He once asked, “Would you like to be alone with me on my boat?” I replied, “If you were with me, I wouldn’t be alone.” I was about six. He laughed and laughed.

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." Groucho Marx and I must've been related.
Grandpa liked intellectual types. Maybe that’s why he got so angry with me the first time he took me fishing.
He baited the hook with the worm. It was squiggly and I was just five. Chances were, the worm would have escaped unharmed and I would have ended up with my fleshy finger on the hook. Just a few minutes in the water and my pole tugged. My boy cousins muttered something about “beginners luck.” He helped me reel in the first fish of the day, a good-sized perch. I was giddy because Grandpa was so proud. My delight shifted into horror as the fish thrashed, dying. I started to cry and begged him to save the fish. He yelled at me, “Stop being so foolish, you silly girl. What do you think happens to fish when we catch them? They die and we eat them.” I was sobbing, asking to go back to shore and saying I didn’t want to be on the boat with “the fish I made dead.” He was disgusted with me, telling me I ruined the fishing trip because I was “a useless child.”
Having a dentist for a grandfather had its perks. We got regular check-ups and fillings for free. His office was in his house, so he had a tendency to go crazy be vigilant with our dental hygiene. One baby molar was giving me trouble (he had worked on it twice) and we were over on a Sunday for a mid-day meal. As everyone was sitting down to eat, he asked Mom how my tooth was doing and she said it was still bothering me. He got up (which meant the meal stopped), grabbed me by the hand (I was about four-and-a-half), and he marched me into his office.
He didn’t ask Mom and he didn’t ask me; he just decided to pull that trouble-making tooth. Right before the Sunday meal.. He made quick work of it, not telling me anything about what he was planning, which was wise. Grandpa had a big set of ear-phones and a black box with a black turn-knob and a red one for his young patients. Either music or a story would play while he was working because he didn’t believe in Novocaine for young people. He said the black dial was the volume for the ear-phones and red dial was the volume for the pain. “Turn the Pain Dial down if you feel pain.” He would see his young patients cranking the red dial and back off momentarily or tell them “I’m almost finished” even when he wasn’t. It worked like magic most of the time.
He set me up with the ear-phones, but before “Once upon a time…” was over, my tooth was out. He packed cotton in the hole and replaced it every minute when it was soaked in blood. I felt sick to my stomach at the metallic taste of the blood and the pasty consistency of the wads of cotton. After five or so minutes, he decided I was fine and we went back to the supper table–my cheek puffed up with cotton and my eyes puffed up with tears.

Do I look like I can eat anything? If I open my mouth, I'll shoot a wad of red cotton right into that platter of lobster.
Grandma served lobster that afternoon. The red and the white of the lobster reminded me of the red and the white of what was going on in my mouth. Grandpa was too busy enjoying his meal to check on me, his distressed one-less-tooth granddaughter. An aunt brought me into the dental office and changed the gooey red cotton with a fresh wad. And so it went until I was down a quart, pale, but the bleeding finally stopped.
I never could eat any kind of sea food without gagging, so if I’m low on Omega fatty acids, I have my Grandpa to thank.









Dec 05, 2011 @ 11:56:59
At least not my Grandpa. Other dentists may have known their professional/personal boundaries a bit better. 😉
Dec 04, 2011 @ 16:17:02
I think I’m happy I didn’t have a dentist in the family…
Dec 01, 2011 @ 12:16:59
No. I think they were doing the things they thought were right for them and assumed they were best for everyone.
Nov 30, 2011 @ 21:23:19
Goodness–all I can think to say is–with relatives like these–who needs enemies?! But your former comment to me keeps ringing in my head, Lorna–and I know it to be true–it’s the intention behind their actions. I don’t think your Grandparents believed they were inflicting lifelong painful memories for you. Did they…?
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:16:17
I read the post and enjoyed it. I also left a comment. I have forgiven them for things you don’t even know about. Doing otherwise would be unthinkable. Life is too short and they taught me how to forgive.
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:13:00
Laugh, and the world laughs with you, cry and you just look like crap. (I just made that up. Do you think Hallmark is hiring?)
Thanks Al. I’m glad you had loving grandparents. If you did then I know it’s possible. 🙂
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:09:43
No, the tooth disappeared as far as I know. It was all very surreal. Maybe Grandpa didn’t believe in the Tooth Fairy. 😉
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:07:31
Thanks, Ruth! 🙂
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:05:49
It was only my Mom and I’ve asked her. She was uncomfortable around that side of the family, too, but was raised to be polite. Her way of coping has always been avoidance rather than confrontation. We just didn’t spend much time with them except for these annual reunions after my dad died.
Nov 30, 2011 @ 16:02:26
My mom said I was a smart girl, but only when asked a direct question (versus a smarty pants). I have to start putting this book together before I can even approach a publisher. Lots of work ahead (because I have more stories to write, too)!
Thanks so much for the encouragement, Janice. 🙂
Nov 30, 2011 @ 15:59:14
I’m finding many soul sisters as I reveal the details of my life and they do the same.
That must have been one memorable dinner…whoo boy!
Nov 30, 2011 @ 12:15:58
I can’t go fishing. Even the ones they throw back bother me that we plucked them up and poked a hole in their lip. As a child, and even young adult, I always felt small, useless, nearly invisible to the adults in my life. Never knew I had an opinion until, well, quite recently. And for the other post, I had a boyfriend in high school that the family required bible readings after dinner. One night the father read the passage about a whore baring her breasts to tempt someone, and stared right at me while reading every word. They thought I was going to corrupt their sweet boy.
Nov 30, 2011 @ 02:00:01
Holy mackerel, your humor was alive and well even at six… (the alone comment)… and your spirit hasn’t changed much (fish I made dead… awwww)…. That Sunday meal sucked the big one, though. I don’t know if I could ever look a lobster in the face again if I suffered like that, poor wee you. That “useless child” remark haunts my heart. Glad you are here writing it all out of yourself, thank goodness your funny bone survived everything so well, we win, lol, your book should do well 🙂
Nov 29, 2011 @ 23:02:15
Oh my!! You captured the feeling of being a child (being at the mercy of adults) perfectly. It took me right back to my childhood.
Now that you’re an adult, do you wonder what your parents were thinking during these times?
Nov 29, 2011 @ 21:43:53
me, too!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 20:24:55
I didn’t have a grandfather. It sounds like it was probably best.
I’m glad you had good teeth but not at the expense of constant scrutiny.
Ugh … I ‘d be afraid to visit.
DId you get to take the tooth home for the tooth fairy? I hope so. LOL
Toodles,
Izzy
Nov 29, 2011 @ 19:57:21
That “laser your eye out” line is priceless.
My maternal grandparents were two loving, charismatic people and a very positive influence on my life. I wrote a tribute blog about each of them.
I’m sorry that you didn’t experience more of that, but the fact that you can write and find the humor about your life with them shows what remarkable character you have.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:25:25
Lots of parallels, Diana. Did you notice our Gravitar pictures are almost the same?
My grandmother didn’t hoard (unless you count prayers), but I think grandparents were generally crankier back then, don’t you?
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:23:03
Glad you’re enjoying these stories. Lots more to come!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:21:20
The very fact that we can be candid and I love it that you can even humorously express such memories is just proof of how we have forgiven and healed in those areas.It in fact will help in making us better parents & maybe even better Grandparents!!! LOL 😉
PS: Ive just put up the post,early this time coz Im travelling!Hope you enjoy it!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:21:08
I nominate you for the Liebster Blog Award, check it out on my blog and read the rules. Pick 5 other blogs to pass the award to and then just enjoy as blogger after blogger signs up to follow you. Well, at least I hope they will….. 🙂
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:18:39
I went to a dentist as a child that gave me novocaine which had no effect on me. The gas made me violently ill, so we couldn’t use that. Going to his office was a horror and it took two nurses to hold me down while he drilled away. Still gives me the shakes to go to the dentist. An extraction is one thing, but fillings without deadening the area? Yikes you poor thing!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:16:17
Well, the tooth pulling took me by surprise and was a one-time trauma. The Bible reading was anticipated and regular, like torture. I’d say the Bible reading was worse…
We didn’t spend a lot of time with them after my dad died, before either. They were very much like strangers. But the plot will thicken…
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:11:42
Oh my, what a horrible thing to say. And your own grandmother said that? I can’t imagine how that must have felt. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the motivations for these kinds of behaviors or outbursts. Is it thoughtlessness or true meanness? Maybe they thought they were doing us a favor by tough-loving us… I don’t know. All I know is that it leaves a mark.
Thanks for your kind words. I did feel useless for a lot of my life. Thank goodness I’m over that! 🙂
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:07:04
As I write these stories, I’m reminded how powerful one event or one word can be to a person’s whole life trajectory. I never thought that much about it, but now I do. Your story of your friend’s father is just another example. I just have to believe that these adults who say these things don’t mean to hurt us so permanently.
I’ll look forward to your next post! 🙂
Nov 29, 2011 @ 18:03:43
Our poor baby teeth. I wish the adults would just leave them alone!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 17:14:33
Your grandfather was quite a character! Sounds like he may have gotten along well with mine if they had known each other – mine wasn’t a dentist but did pull a lose baby tooth of mine for me once with a string. I still cringe and get chills up my spine at the memory!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 17:06:51
Lovely post Lorna, How true that even thoughtless and tactless words of authorities can leave life long scars on children.I was a victim once of a similar scar in my 7th Grade when my best friend’s father told her to avoid me coz I was too straightforward and open with boys and reluctantly she obeyed her father.Though I ws innocent I felt guilty coz I was pronounced “not good enough”for his daughter by an authority. Incidentally I left the school the next year as mum who was a teacher in the same school got transferred. Ironically,the next year I came to know that my friend had a secret love affair unknown to her father. It just shows how carefully we need to use our words coz we never know what effect it may have on another!;)
PS: I was just typing out my next nugget which has a mention of you!;)when I saw that you stopped by my site thanks;)
Nov 29, 2011 @ 15:59:23
Maybe we are all immersed in thinking of our family this time of year? I’ve spent the past week wondering where I belong in my family and it has been a pleasure to read about your wack-a-doodles. We all have them and you describe yours so wonderfully, I especially enjoyed Grandma’s family bible readings and was quite moved by Grandpa’s hurtful words which have a way of sticking with you forever, “useless child.”
My maternal Grandmother (always called Grandmother, she wouldn’t respond to Grandma) told me (at age 15 and just after my mother died) that it was my fault that my mother died of cancer. Those things just have a way of sticking with you even when you are an adult and know better. I’m so glad your Grandfather’s “useless” granddaughter is here to enrich and add humor to our lives today!
Nov 29, 2011 @ 14:27:21
Good lord, Lorna! Between an in-house dental office and after dinner Bible verse reading, I’d never set foot in that house! “Girls, we’re going to see Grandma and Grandpa!” Talk about anxiety induced shakes.
Still, I’m thinking that maybe the tooth extraction is a wee bit less stressful and painful than an après dinner Bible verse reading. Well, maybe a statistical tie…
Nov 29, 2011 @ 13:42:44
Love this story about your grandparents 🙂
Nov 29, 2011 @ 13:09:18
My father-in-law was a dentist. He was good–when he filled a tooth, the filling stayed put forever–but his chairside manner left a lot to be desired. Actually, I think he was cranky because of my mother-in-law’s spending and hoarding habits.
My grandpa was beyond cranky. I think the only reason he liked me was because he thought I threw a ball like a boy.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 13:02:40
Do tell, Ursula. Do tell…
Nov 29, 2011 @ 13:00:44
I don’t have hardly any pictures and spent very little time with this side of the family. So my memories and stories of my sisters and mom are really all I have to go on.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 12:58:10
Interesting is an apt word to describe them. 😉
Nov 29, 2011 @ 12:57:54
Wow I don’t remember that one. Now I understand the fish thing. My poor sister. Love ya.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 12:57:38
I would hope that most dentists in the family wouldn’t be quite so domineering as my grandfather. And I never could swallow fish or seafood in my life. Amazing how these incidents scar a person, huh?
Nov 29, 2011 @ 12:26:59
I need a Lot of dental work I can’t afford right now, and I always said I wish we had a dentist in the family. Not so sure now. LOL
And? I did almost the very same thing when my Dad took me on my first fishing adventure. He was kind and gentle with me, but disappointed, I could tell. Sorry Dad.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 11:51:48
You have very interesting family members. I love hearing about all of them.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 09:22:49
My cousins and I used to go fishing with my Grandpa all the time, lol. What it is with Grandpa’s and fishing? I don’t know if I really ever caught anything, most of my memories as a kid come from seeing pictures so I don’t know what I actually remember.
Nov 29, 2011 @ 07:00:44
Bloody hell, Lorna. You have proven what the human mind can withstand without its spirit being cracked like a lobster.
A third way through the narrative I was planning to ask you whether you’d ever entrusted your teeth to your grandfather, only to be provided with the goulish answer there and then.
Whilst your answer to his question not only clever but so trusting it appears that you were “alone”; not in the same boat at all, despite his presence. Funny, isn’t it, how some of the more baffling stories of our childhood make such great anecdotes later.
Keep smiling. And remind me of telling you when MY grandfather took me fishing. Same worm, different story.
U