I was lucky to have very loving grandparents, Floyd and Mildred Gannan Robertson, as a constant presence in my life. My younger brother, John, and I spent summers with them, and I lived with them during summers while in college. Every happy childhood memory I have is somehow associated with my grandparents.
While in college, my grandfather bought me my first car, a red Kharman Ghia. I think he spent $200 on it, the front end was dented in, the paint was faded, but I loved it! He and my grandmother didn't have a lot of money, but somehow they managed to surprise me with the most wonderful gift anyone had given me. I was so proud of that car, which made me very popular at school because there were very few others with a car at the time.
One Saturday morning, my grandfather decided it was time to repaint the car and spruce it up a bit. He woke me up that Saturday morning and said, "let's get to it." I went out to the garage, and to my surprise I found my grandmother already there, taping the chrome on the car. My grandfather proceeded to "unbend" the front bumper with a sledge hammer, then he spray painted the car. That car had so many issues, including melting the soles of the shoes off anyone who sat in the backseat, and having to drive with the window rolled down in the winter because the defroster didn't work, but I didn't care. The car served me well for several years, when it finally burned up the by the side of the road.
My grandfather called me every Sunday to check up on me, even after I was grown with a family of my own, and every Sunday morning I still think of he and my grandmother.