"Jack"

I ordered a coffee the other day, and they were busy enough that they asked for my name on the coffee. Instinctively and not out of habit, but necessity, I recited the name, “Jack.”

My grandfather is the most influential man in my life. Always has been and always will be. He has been a rock to which I could always turn to for shelter and comfort and design. He has molded me into much of the person I am today. Although, I have fallen away from who I am recently. Long story, but I have been afraid to be me. I had forgotten what it was anymore. I had been hurt too many times and was just guarded.

He taught me how to be, how to live, how to not survive, but to thrive. Lead, never follow, even if you have to walk. He taught me to love so deeply, everything. Everything deserves and requires love to live in this world.

One summer in high school we used to have a fundraiser at Safeco Field, and we always needed adults for supervision. One time I asked my grandpa to join us. He had never been to Safeco to see the Mariners, and being the enormous baseball fan he is, I thought he would enjoy it.

Well here’s the thing. My grandpa was the hardest worker I had ever met. He tried to instill that in me, and more than likely that is why when I am lazy, I feel so much worse. And overcompensate and then have to sleep for days. So he didn’t see a single inning of that game, even though I kept throwing him out of the stand to go watch.

While working during a busy middle inning, I kept hearing “Jack.” Now, I knew everyone in that booth that day and I can tell you with great certainty that no one was name Jack. As I turned around to catch who was answering to the request that Jack grab 4 jumbo hot dogs, I saw my grandpa in quick and stealthy fashion, whip up 4 hot dogs with the works and gracefully place them before the customer. Confused I tugged on my grandpa’s t-shirt sleeve. “Grandpa, you know your name isn’t Jack, right?” I inquired as I wondered if this was the beginning of something far more disconcerting.

“Of course, honey, I know my name isn’t Jack. But why the hell would I want these people knowing my real name? I don’t want them stalking me!”

And there it was. The reason my grandpa didn’t want to be called by his real name. But he also was embarrassed by his name.  He used “Jack” for everything. And had it been his legal name, I’m sure he would have signed that name as well.

The strong, skillful, compassionate Delbert Campbell McCluskey, had grown up in a family of eleven children in small town Oklahoma. He spent the majority of his young life in Springfield, Oregon. Racing around on the farm, learning the ways of a young man, and teaching them all to his younger brothers.

He went on to graduate from Oregon State University with two degrees in civil engineering and mathematics. However, in most of his subjects he found a passion for knowledge and learning and continued that self-education well into his years, found with a book in hand, with another stack on the floor.  Delbert was so tired of the rain in Oregon one quarter that he hopped on a train and went as far east as he could get, making it to Colorado Springs and taking classes from the university. Enjoying the spring sunshine, but realizing his heart was still in the Pacific Northwest.

He taught by experience and example, never much with words, but guidance into the unknown; teaching that if you didn’t try you would never know the greatness at the other end.

I miss him. I mean, I miss him everyday, but today more than others. I want so much to talk to him. I want so much to go back to our drive from South Dakota to Seattle, where he only drove 45 minutes of the whole trip. I want so much to sit and share a box of cheez-its with him, watching golf in the basement. I want so much to be taught all the ways of golf and the importance it has on one’s success in life. I want so much to ask him what I should do with my life, so much to ask for help once more.

You could not help but be drawn to such an astounding, personable and vivacious man. He would do everything for anyone before himself. He is the epitome of the good within humanity. We can only strive to reach the strength and capacity of his heart. His guidance, while not physically present now, is still there and substantially felt.

Love you, Jack.