For one, Fabulich is NOT a common name. And two, OF COURSE I am related to that sweet, wonderful, energetic man! I LOVE that strangers know my grandpa by name because of his positive, sweet, patient, and caring attitude. I love that this teller had stories to tell me about how she saw Al in a store once while shopping with her boyfriend and my grandpa recognized her (by name even) and said hello. She told me that afterwards her boyfriend commented on how his face "lit up" when he saw her. I LOVE that. What a blessing. What an example. What a legacy. So thank you Carrie at Chase for sharing that with me today. :)
My grandpa called me after my last post, as only the most loving grandpa and retired engineer would, to let me know I had overlooked some things and may want to update them. I am marrying an engineer so it is nothing new to me to know that that engineers like their facts correct. So with that in mind- of my caring, sweet, sociable, and brilliant grandpa- I am reposting the blog of Mormor, only this time, as revised by him. I love how he has added details and memories that I wouldn't have known about and will now have forever. I can't even explain how much I will cherish this piece of writing from him. So please enjoy for the second time, with correct and expanded information, my post on my Mormor:
Mormor: As revised by Grandpa Al
"My grandmother. My Mormor. My missing piece to my wedding.
As a little girl I was fascinated with my grandma and her Danish heritage. I did any school report I possibly could about her and her life and her culture. I loved spending time with her at "the house on the hill." I spent so much time reading historical fiction books as a child and right in front of me was my real-life heroine.
Grethe was born in Saxgobing, Jutland, Denmark, and grew up in the city of Copenhagen, with her mom (Kirsten,) dad (Fredrik,) and brother (Henrik.) When she was a young adult, during WWII, she and some girlfriends were out one evening, when they noticed a group of American soldiers, on R&R, coming out of a restaurant. The soldiers had no idea that young Danish children were taught English in their schools while growing up, so the soldiers, especially my Grandpa Al, were admiring, and favorably commenting on the "very attractive Danish girls" QUITE loudly. Suddenly Grethe turned to him, and asked, in British: "Do you REALLY think so?" Needless to say the young soldiers' jaws hit the ground, speechless, stumbling over themselves, for a bit. After a long, group- talk, in English, Grethe and her girlfriend invited/treated Al and his Army buddy to visit the aquarium the next day. That same evening, the four enjoyed dinner, with her family, at her parents' 4-story, walk-up apartment. On that evening, a spark flew between Grethe and Albert, and a long distance relationship began.
My Grandpa Albert's parents, had separately moved to America, from Yugoslavia, got married, and lived in New York City, where he grew up. He was a brilliant young man and was offered a full scholarship to NYC College, but lost his chance, since his dad's health made them move out to a Long Island farm, where he graduated from high school, at 16. After taking a crash course at Farmingdale Agricultural Institute, he started his top quality commercial poultry business, on the farm. Three years later, with an annual production rate up to 18,000 birds, his parents took over the business, when he was called into the army for WWII, where he learned electronics; later, he served in the "bait tanks" under General Patton, in the critical and deadly "Battle of the Bulge." He was also one of the first to discover and enter into one of the many Jewish concentration camps, set up by the Nazi's, breaking down the huge gates, with his tank. I cannot even begin to describe how proud I am of him for his accomplishments and his compassion to others.
Well, you see, after that first meeting, Albert and Grethe began writing back and forth to one another, for over two years, during which time Albert was back, home, and, rather than operate the farm, he tried, and finally found, a junior college opening, in which to utilize his newly earned GI Bill education. Finally, after Al was about to graduate, and looking for a job, they, together, decided that Grethe would pack up her life in Denmark and emigrate to America. So, in August, 1948, as a scared young woman, she said goodbye to her family, friends, and everything she knew, bought a boat ticket with money earned as a pharmacy apprentice, and boarded a steamer ship, with a girlfriend, for America. Al met her at the N.Y. dock, and took her to his home/ farm, where he proposed, in 8 weeks, on his birthday, and they married on December 19th. For five months, after crossing the Atlantic, she had been living an "ordeal", at a busy poultry farm with a "fiancée" who was often gone for school and work, and in-laws who spoke Slavic together, and poor English with her. Although lonely, she held strong though and worked hard; and, in January, they moved to a job in New Jersey, then, upstate New York, then, Los Angeles, and, since 1964, in Ventura. They had four children and worked very hard, in becoming, the "All-American" family. My grandpa was a successful engineer, and investor; and, my grandma kept a wonderful home and included her Danish traditions in many aspects of their family's life, especially baking!!! They enjoyed visiting family in Denmark, every 5 years, within their travels. They loved dancing, weekly, especially ballroom, square, and round, dancing, all their lives, together. Then she was informed that she had breast cancer.
In those days cancer was considered more of a death sentence. The treatments were brutal and the prognosis wasn't good. But being the strong woman she was, she endured, for 14 years, and, it appeared that she had beat that cancer into remission.
Then, while I was in the seventh grade, my family and I were gone on a trip. We came home and found a message on our answering machine from my grandpa: "It's your mom, Dave. She's not doing well; and, we got some bad news from the doctor. You need to call." We found out the cancer had returned. It was in her liver. She had only a few months left. Being that I was only in middle school, my parents chose to keep my sister and me distant from the pain and hurt my grandma was in; but, I do remember, very clearly, saying goodbye, to her.
She was lying in bed, looking tinier and frailer than ever, and my grandpa was trying to feed her lunch and her medication and she shooed him out the door, refusing to touch it. I sat next to her on that great big bed and we talked about Danish open-face sandwiches, how she taught me Danish, how many hours we spent talking about her life with my little Fisher Price tape recording catching every word on tape, the times we sat in her bay window in the kitchen and cleaned it, the times we went to the zoo, celebrated holidays, and spent the night there. Then I was told my grandma needed to rest and I needed to go. So I leaned in to give her a hug, not fully realizing it was to be our last, and tried to hug her carefully so I wouldn't hurt her even though I wanted to squeeze with all of my might, and I tried to take in the moment and the smell of her, and the sound of her voice. Oh how I miss her voice! How thankful I am for being that silly little girl who wanted to record her grandma's stories; and, now, I am grateful that I have that voice on tape.
Only a few weeks after grandpa’s initial phone call, my sister and I were home, alone, when my aunt, Denise (my mom’s sister), came over; and, while crying, she told us our grandma was gone, and had passed away quietly that morning, with her husband and two of her four children around her. My dad told me he didn’t make it quite in time and my uncle, Richard, didn't make it in time to say goodbye, because he had stopped to buy flowers for her, only to be informed that he had missed her, and she was already gone. I can't even imagine that hurt.
So you see, my grandma passed away when I was just a young girl, but she was such a large part of my life before that, that there are moments when I miss her, I look up to heaven and I whisper, "Do you see me Mormor?"
"My braces are off Mormor. What do you think of my smile?"
"I am going to prom Mormor. What do you think of my dress? Is it pretty?"
"I am graduating high school. Are you proud of me Mormor?"
"I am graduating college Mormor. Can you believe it?"
"We have great-grandbabies in the family Mormor. Precious new great-grandbabies. Do you see them?"
And now, "I'm getting married, Mormor. He is so wonderful. You would love him. I wish you were here."
And I hear all her whispered answers, from heaven, "Yes. You are. I'm so proud of my family."
So on our wedding day you will see a picture up front with us, of my Mormor, to mark her place of honor with my family, to have her there with me on this most important day; and to remind me she's celebrating with us in heaven. There will also be a picture of Matt's grandparents, who have also passed away.
Most likely you are asking what Mormor means. It is Danish for "mother's mother." Even though technically my sister and I should call her Farmor for "father's mother", the grandkids always called her Mormor.
One of my favorite things about my Grandma Grethe is that she took the time to teach me Danish, and I regret that I don't remember more, but I remember what is most important - what you say to those who matter most in your life: Du betyder meget for mig, og jeg elsker dig, Mormor
Thank you for the many, beautiful memories, Grandma; you mean a lot to me; and, I will always love you, MORMOR!"
Here are some pictures of my amazing grandpa with the Fabulich family (which makes me realize I need some recents ones, which are sure to be taken at the wedding)...
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| 85th birthday party! |
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| Bass Lake |
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| My cousin Danielle's graduation from law school (with honors!) |
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| My beautiful cousin Erin with grandpa at Christmas. My grandpa is known for his Santa hat and his awesome felt Christmas bow tie, which is not pictured here, sadly. |
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