Ronald R. Roth: January 6, 1928 – January 13, 2012

My brother-in-law, Dustin, put into words pretty much everything I’ve been thinking about my Grandfather. Grandpa was kind, thoughtful and the very definition of generous. There was a reason that small children and household pets flocked to him. And I’m not just talking about the treats that he doled out. He was a friend to everyone and everything, large and small. Well, everything but squirrels. Grandpa hated squirrels.

Every family has its favorite stories and one of ours is about the weekend that I spent on my own with my grandparents when I was a little over a year old. My parents, who made their own granola and considered tofu to be a food group, were crystal clear with my Grandpa when they dropped me off: don’t spend the weekend feeding her junk food. They came back to get me on Sunday and my Grandpa swore up and down that he’d been the measure of restraint. My parents grudgingly accepted his assurances.

That is, until I started tugging on his shirt and saying, “Nuts! Nuts!”

My Grandpa turned bright red and admitted that he’d spent the weekend feeding me those little mini powdered donuts. And, like the little sugar junkie that I was, I was fiending for them something fierce.

Some of my earliest memories are of trips to my grandparents house. The details are a little fuzzy, but the feelings are all there. Happiness and love, that warm feeling when you know that your every need is going to be taken care of. And powdered donuts. You’d best believe that I remember those powdered donuts.

My Grandpa used to dress up like Santa Claus for us. I remember him telling us, all excited, that Santa was going to come and visit! I think he enjoyed the excitement just as much as we all did. And then, a little later, he said that he needed to go upstairs and take care of something. I begged him to stay downstairs. “Grandpa! If you go upstairs, you’ll miss Santa! You always miss Santa!” I think it says a lot about our love for Grandpa that we all remember wanting him to meet Santa (my cousin Jacquelyn has the same memory). It just wasn’t the same without him.

Last week, I was showing these pictures to my Grandma and she told us that my Dad bought that suit. I can picture Grandpa opening it. He probably played it cool, but you can tell that he just loved being Santa.

Grandpa was a man of carefully chosen words, most of them wisecracks. In a family like ours, it can be hard to get a word in edge-wise, but Grandpa knew just when to play his cards. He could command a room with the simple force of his presence. And his comedic timing was impeccable.

And he could be competitive! When, at my HS graduation, I made a joke about getting the same sized check from him as I did from his mother, he silently reached over and handed me a dollar.

Grandpa loved the Yankees, which put him at odds with this Red Sox loving Bostonian. Over the years, there was much bantering back and forth about our respective teams. This year, after the Sox’ epic collapse, he sent me a card with a picture of a boat on it. He drew in “S.S. Red Sox” on the bough and then talked some smack on the inside about our ship having sailed. In this day of Facebook, it’s easy to lay down some trash talk when someone’s team gets eliminated from the playoffs. Grandpa took it to that extra level with a trip to the stationary store and the post office.

It’s hard to describe the depth of my love for my Grandpa. On the surface of it, dressing up like Santa Claus and doling out powdered donuts don’t seem like all that big of a deal. But in everything that Grandpa did, it was written a thousand times over his face just how much he loved us. He did some great things in his life, but the greatest of all was the love and happiness that he gave to his family. It a testament to that love that so many of us made the pilgrimage to CT to say goodbye. My grandparents house hasn’t been empty since he came home from the hospital.

The last few weeks have been hard, but Grandpa spent them surrounded by his family. I am so very grateful that he wasn’t in any pain and that he was barely in any discomfort. When my Dad told him how much we loved him, Grandpa answered with a simple, “I know.” How could he not? That love has been written all over our faces for our entire lives.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. I will miss you more than you could ever imagine.