My grandfather was an amazing man. A geophysicist, he was quiet, brilliant, circumspect, pragmatic, a lifelong learner in the fields of math and science and leader in oil exploration – and yet he was so faithfully loving and supportive of a creative like me, his oldest grandchild and just about his polar opposite in terms of interests and passions.
Grandpa was strong and silent like so many men of his age who served in WWII and saw things they could never describe and didn’t care to remember. Tom Brokaw called them The Greatest Generation in his influential book of the same name; I just call myself lucky that this first lieutenant in the Air Force fell in love with my grandmother, a divorcé with a tiny daughter, and married her in 1942.
That tiny daughter was my Mom, and this gentle, studious man adopted her as his own, treating her the same as the other children he and Grandma went on to have. I didn’t know Grandpa wasn’t my Mom’s biological father / my biological grandfather for years, and when I found out, it didn’t matter in the least. We were his, and he was ours.
(photos with captions are excerpts from a slide show created by my Dad for my grandmother’s 90th birthday)
A true explorer, Grandpa’s career in oil exploration took him all over the world; he was eventually VP of Geophysics for Superior Oil (now ExxonMobil). His remarkable career was followed by adventures on the sea, as his retirement began with a 42-foot sailboat and trips that sometimes included lucky grandchildren like my brother and me.
The rigors of sailing gave way to land-based adventures as my grandparents mounted an RV in their 70s and traveled throughout the country, visiting national parks and family, arriving just in time for birthdays and births (including my son’s). Their retirement together was rich in experiences fueled by water, wind and land – and love of family.
Today would have been Grandpa’s 98th birthday. To honor and remember him, I’m sharing the poem I wrote for his funeral in 2002.
Water, Wind and Land: Metaphors for a Geophysicist (for Grandpa)
we are all archeologists now
sifting through our memories of you
sorting the bits and pieces we find
to put them back together
in what will become our lasting “mind pictures” of you
sometimes sifting and sorting alone
sometimes together with your other loves ones
turning our memory fragments this way and that
to see where they fit
and make a clearer picture
all of my finds in this archeological dig of grief
are geo-metaphors for a geophysicist:
~ water, wind and land ~
for you were not a man of words
you were a man of deeds
of facts
of maps
and plans
my dig finds full sails and stormy skies
radars and Lorans
dolphin fish and egrets’ cries
a wood-hulled boat, a lake cabin, a becalming
your thoughtful brown eyes
your “I love you’s” were spoken in geo-metaphor:
~ water, wind and land ~
“help me steer the boat, Kimmie”
“Stevie, let me show you how to tie a slip knot”
“Of course girls can shoot skeet!”
for you were not a man of words
you were a man of deeds
of facts
of maps
and plans
I dig deeper, contemplative, archeologist-turned sociologist
looking for meaning
and I find you are an underground river
strong, constant, clear and sure
your life’s waters carried bloodlines and love-lines
equally strong
lifelines guiding through shifting sands
~ water, wind and land ~
my finds are home-baked bread
and spectacular jams
a well-stocked RV
crossing ferries and dams
Grandma’s letters with your P.S:
“Math and science, math and science!”
recognized clearly – then and now –
as geo-metaphor love, all your best
~ water, wind and land ~
you were a man of deeds
of facts
of maps
and plans
~ water, wind and land ~
we dig and sort
together and apart
reconstructing geo-you
in the museums of our hearts
~ water, wind and land ~
love, kimmie
july 2002
Grandpa and me at my first wedding, way back in the 80s. Those pearls were borrowed from my grandmother, one of the many, many gifts he brought her from his world travels. His finds, which included on the one end spears and art from Nigeria and on the other end, jewelry like these pearls and a gorgeous raw emerald, have been given to all of my cousins. I got the pearls.
In his later years, Grandpa channeled his natural curiosity and scientific attention to detail into cooking, mostly bread-baking and jam-making. He made the same recipes again and again, meticulously documenting small differences until he had them perfected. Christmas stocking gifts in those years were highly coveted jars of his homemade jellies. I treasure the memory of our long talks about cooking from those days. I also inherited some of his knives and big pots, which I consider to be heirlooms on par with the pearls.
Rest in peace, dear man, and bless you for teaching us about water, wind and land – and love.
Copyright 2017, Glover Gardens Cookbook
Your loving eloquence honors him deservedly.
Your stories show how all were so very fortunate to have each other’s love.
Michele, yes, we were blessed beyond measure.
My Uncle Tom was one of the kindest men I ever knew, he was a man of few words but he had a good sense of humor. On a skiing trip with my cousins in Colorado (where we all lived at the time) I feel and injured my knee,had a cast put on He was the one who drove me home from the slopes I felt so safe and cared for. When he spoke to my aunt you could always hear the love and tenderness in his voice when he said”Ruthie”. He was generous and gentlemanly. We traveled on his boat to Galveston to see Nathan and Sharon. I was on crutches and had my infant son with me. They were both so kind to us. I remember his recalling how flying over most of the world for his job he had noted that much of it is dark until he came to the US . Then there were many light signs of life and prosperity as a result of being a free people. He loved children and ice cream 💕💕and we loved him.
What a lovely tribute, Madelyn. I didn’t know about his outlook about light and dark / freedom and prosperity. But I did know about the ice cream! Thank you for sharing.
Hi Kim, You don’t know me but I know of your grandpa. I actually have a photo of him in a group photo taken in the Bahamas on an oil exploration survey there in 1947. I will leave my email address below. If you are interested I will send you a copy. regards Doug Morrison, exploration geophysicist , Sydney Australia.
Hi Doug! This is an amazing and wonderful note. I would absolutely love to have a copy of that photo, and I am so grateful that you took the time to contact me. My grandmother is still with us (she’s 97), and she would get a real kick out of that photo. I don’t see your email address anywhere, but here’s mine: kimberly.ann.glover@gmail.com. Thanks again!
He sounds amazing…and a major shaper of his grandkids….and a man of his times but also trailblazing.
What hit me very hard is that he and my Mom’s father, Oury, could be twins separated at birth or doppelgangers. But that is a photo story for another day….happy birthday Kim’s grandad. I imagine he is exploring other galaxies and dimensions right about now. Godspeed Sir.
What a nice comment; it makes me smile to think that my grandfather had a doppelganger. Maybe we are related! And yes, I’m sure he’s exploring beyond the bounds of water, wind and land these days.