Grandpa Bean

Today would have been my grandfather's 97th birthday, had he lived this long. Grandma and Grandpa Bean were a huge part of my earliest years; very few childhood memories don't include them. They were of that Greatest Generation that has been dying off in the last twenty years; the generation that rolled up their sleeves and fought a massive world war simply because it needed to be done.

Grandpa Bean was not a particularly educated man. He wasn't destined to be a shiny politician or a rich mogul. He was simply a hard-working, honest man who saved and spent wisely his whole life. The grandfather I knew was quiet, but he loved Aaron and I and seemed to enjoy our antics. He was able to enjoy his retirement because he had worked hard all of his life, even doing jobs he may not particularly have wanted to do.

A couple of evenings ago, Mom, Dad and I got into a discussion about a couple of books I read recently, both set in World War Two. The conversation moved on to a discussion about how fascinating that time in history is; how incredible that so many atrocities and shameful historical incidents like the Holocaust and the many atrocities of that time could occur (even, yes, in the United States, with the Japanese Internment) and yet, so many regular people could stand up and fight for others.

Grandpa Bean, and my Grandpa Cooper, as well, were both too old to go off to war, but both joined the military effort here at home. I'm sure neither particularly wanted to be soldiers--they had wives and families to think about--but the need was there, and they just rolled up their sleeves and did what needed to be done.

I started thinking about this last night. I have, of course, been self-absorbed of late about my own career prospects the last few weeks. For whatever reason, I am stubbornly clinging to this attitude that I will not like my new gig, selling insurance. My gut has been telling me it's all wrong, it's not a "good fit," and I'm honestly and truly terrified to go for it. But something occurred to me last night. What would Grandpa Bean have done in my situation? If faced with very few job prospects in his usual field, and an opportunity to start making a living in a new field he didn't particularly want anything to do with, what would he have done?

Simple: He would have taken the job, and done his best at it. He would have been glad to have something to pay the bills and keep food on the table.

And I am, too. Deep down, the thought of having an income, not to mention a purpose, again, is satisfying. I can't necessarily help that twisty feeling inside that I won't be happy doing it, but I can go in with the attitude of, "I will do this because I must. And something that is even better for me may come along soon." As one very wise friend pointed out last night, just having a job will make me appear more employable to the rest of the world than being unemployed does. So maybe taking on this job I don't really want will be the catalyst towards moving me out of two years of stagnation and unemployment to something that is even better for me.

I have very little hope that education will be a door that is open to me this year. Every day, I hopefully check Ed-Join, and there are so few jobs, and I know there are so many unemployed teachers in this state. But perhaps, as I get out in the community selling for my new job, a more reliable career path will be opened to me. I'm hopeful that opportunities will start appearing so that I can grab hold of them.

In the mean time, I need to take a lesson out of Grandpa Bean's book. I need to roll up my sleeves and do what needs to be done.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa. Thanks for being a great example.

Grandma Bean, my Aunt Donna holding my mom, and Grandpa Bean.
Circa 1946-47

This must have been taken in the 1960s.

This would have been sometime between 1987 and 1991, in our home
in Folsom.

August 1978