That's right people, my grandfather (who I always called "Pop-pop" for some unknown reason) turned 97 today.
That's three years short of 100.
That's way more than twice my age.
That's a whole lot of life.
Norman Randolph Lynch was born on the Eastern Shore of Maryland to Irving and Charlotte Lynch, who owned a small farm near Berlin, MD. Norman was the first of ten children. He grew-up hunting, fishing, and doing farm work.
At age 16, he left home to work for a dredging company on the Delaware River. Over the years, he worked his way up from a deck-hand, to a hard-hat-diver, and to finally to a boat captain.
Norman Lynch in June 1942Along the way, he met and married my grandmother, started a family, bought a home, and (as near as I can tell), lead a happy life.
Now, after 97 years, he's slowing down a bit: he can't see or hear very well, he needs a cane to walk, and he doesn't drive anymore. However, he's still mentally sharp and interested in the world.
I should do so well when I turn 97. Life goes on.
2 comments:
Here's to 97! Happy to hear you're home. I'm very happy to have the blog to follow your saga, but find that I tend to just read and somehow assume you know I am doing so and thinking of you. I'll try and comment, or otherwise be in touch, more. Glad to hear you and Kyle are keeping eachother entertained - young kids are remarkably comfortable with illness...mine were not phased by grandaddy after his surgery and they love riding in his electric chair.
Thanks.
It's hard to tell if people are reading this blog. Sometimes I'll write something (I think) is pretty clever and I think, "oh, I'll get lots of comments on this," but I don't.
Then I'll have several friends call or email and complain that I haven't updated my blog in a week.
Go figure.
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