My grandmother Lynn was my grandfather's second wife and was about 20 years younger than he. She married him after his first wife died and Lynn raised his children as her own even though she was only 12 years older than the eldest child, my mother. When my mother was married and had her first child at 18, Lynn was about 30 years old. Lynn is young thinking, young looking, and young acting which made it strange to have her as a grandmother because she certainly looked more like an aunt than a grandmother.
When her first grandkid (me) came along she was understandably freaked out. Only 31 years old at the time, Lynn flatly refused to be called "Grammy" and she started a running joke by getting me to call her Lynnie, which was the only name I ever used to address her. As the other kids came along years later she relented letting them call her Grammy but I was grandmothered in, so to speak, and always addressed her by her first name.
Lynn was a slender blonde, blue-eyed woman of Scandinavian descent, about 5'7" with an average frame, small but perky up top. She was no runway model, but she was cute in her own way and she loved my grandfather to death and the rest of the family never thought of her as anything other than blood kin.
My grandfather, Walter Tucker, and his first wife, Lilly, dreamed of raising horses together, so he retired early and used his life savings to purchase a horse farm estate to make that a reality. But when Lilly unexpectedly passed away less than a year later, he considered selling the farm when he met Lynn. Twenty years his junior, she was initially hired as a stable hand but after about 6 months of her working at the farm they suddenly announced that they were getting married. To say this was a shock to everyone is a vast understatement. People were surprised and for years there was gossip of a "reason" for getting married, but no baby was born so the cynics assumed that Lynn lost the baby and the rest of us assumed they found true love.
Grandpa Tuck and Lynn spent two decades building an impeccable reputation for horse boarding and training, and had carved out a comfortable life for themselves. They were able to maintain the farm and shortly after they were married did a major renovation of an old ski cottage that had been in Tuck's family for generations. The cozy ski house was about a half hour away from the farm, small, but in an awesome location at the slopes. A ski resort had grown up around it and our family used it year round but mainly during ski season. Both Lynn's and Tuck's families are very large, so it was common for relatives to cut out of work early during the week, ski a few hours by themselves or with a companion, and drive back home.
By the time I was in my late teens Lynn and I had become the most avid skiers in the family and we tried to get to the ski house as much as time, and work at the farm, would permit. However, we almost never skied together because of the demands on her time from the farm. Those of you that have worked a farm of any kind know that a good day on the farm is when your scheduled 12 hour day ends on time...and that's not with a "lunch hour".
When I graduated from college in 1985, about 3 years after Tuck died, the recession made finding a job difficult and Lynn offered to bring me on as a paid worker at the farm until I got some job prospects. I had worked with her for years, and some of the hired staff were getting up in years, so it made sense and I accepted. I moved back in with my parents who lived close by and quickly adjusted to the reality that moving away from home wasn't going to happen any time soon.
It was winter of 1986. I had been working on the farm full time for 7 months and had become Lynn's right-hand-man, a position other farm hands were only too willing to accede because of the huge responsibility and time commitment. Lynn and I would cover for each other to get a day off, or sometimes we had one of the farm hands work extra, but we almost never scheduled days off at the same time because it was hard to get people to cover both our jobs.
With little money, no girlfriend, and job prospects all but zero, I was making the best of the situation and took advantage of the unusually snowy winter in the northeast. I would get up at 4, be at the horse farm by 4:30 and leave for the ski house around 3:00. Weekends, and calendars for that matter, are of little use to a farmer. The sun, the rain, and the alarm clock are about all you need to keep track of your life. But on the plus side, by keeping on a such an early rising schedule I enjoyed the best winter skiing of my life. A seasonal lift ticket was an excellent investment that year, and having the ski house to use any time made it an inexpensive way to enjoy a sensational winter ski season. Lynn also made it to the ski house when she could, but not as often as I did.
Lynn had dated very little since Tuck died 4 years earlier, but at 52 she was still an attractive and very fit woman. If she were on the open market it would have been easy for her to find someone but she, like me, was dutifully tied to the farm. The farm work overshadowed most social activities, and after working a long day it was hard for her to get motivated to hit the town or go out on a date. She rarely had guests over other than family and the years without Tuck had made her a bit jaded and short with people. I understood where she'd been and how she got to this point so I was patient and understanding, and when she snapped at me or criticised me I never took it personally and just let it go. She knew that I really cared about her, I respected her, and I just flat out liked her. Lynn rarely made people wonder where she stood and I loved that about her. I would watch how she dealt with people and would just shake my head, laugh, and walk away before her short temper got the best of her and she unloaded on someone who desperately deserved it. It could be a snobby horse owner, incompetent carpenter...you name it. She expected a lot from herself and she expected a lot from others. No one could ever say she wasn't fair, and I respected the way she lived her life. As I got older I realized that fire in her must have been one of the things that Grandpa Tuck loved best because I sure did. When she got mad, really mad, her blue eyes would simmer with energy and she would stare right at you, through you. It was unnerving because her eyes were so vibrant and pretty it was hard not to look her in the eye but they were so goddamn distracting I'd have to ask her to repeat what she said, which only made her more angry!
Eventually I learned my way around her, how to handle her, and even men who had known and worked with Tuck said on many occasions that they never saw a man (other than Tuck of course) able to calm Lynn down and reason with her like I did. It was sad and telling that nearly every time someone said his name, they'd look at the sky or the ground and with a smile they'd mutter, "Aw, Tuck. Good ol' Tuck" or something like that. It made me want to be more like him every single time I heard it. To be loved like that, to be remembered like that, with that kind of fondness? Now, that's a life well lived.
Valentine's Day 1986 came and went, just another day at the farm for Lynn and for me. Neither Lynn nor I had so much as sniffed a hint or a discussion of a date, which was a bit disappointing for me because this was the first time since I was a teenager I didn't have someone to take out to dinner. Two days later, February 16, it snowed like hell and I was really looking forward to skiing. I had a 4-wheel-drive truck so getting to the ski house was never a problem and I could hardly wait.
I finished up my work at 3:00 and by 3:15 I was showered and on the road. My normal routine was to get to the ski house, change, be on the slopes by 4:30, get a few runs in and drive back home by 8. There was something fundamentally right with doing this amount of physical work and exercise and I was in the best shape of my life. I was trim, I was eating right, and mentally I was clear as a bell. My life had achieved a sort of Zen acceptance; I ceased the pursuit of unattainable things and I was truly happy. I wasn't the most attractive guy in the world but I began to see myself as attractive for the first time, not so much physically but deeply pleased with who I was, how I treated others, and how much I was able to help Lynn. I had an opportunity to do a lot of reading and that winter I was truly maturing, becoming a man. At 23, I was beginning to see how life really worked, what was really necessary to get by, and most importantly what you could do without.
I got to the ski house and was in the middle of changing clothes when I heard a car pull up. I pulled up my ski pants and Lynn walked in, much to my surprise.
"Hey Paul!" she yelled with a big smile. "I didn't know you were coming up here or I'd have hitched a ride with ya!"
I was so glad to see her I was jubilant. I loved skiing with her and being with her, especially away from the farm.
"Yeah, you should have said something! Get your stuff on. Let's go Lynnie!"
I helped her get her stuff into the house and within a few minutes we were ready to get going. It was 4:30 and the sun was still shining but the slope lights were already burning.
She was an awesome skier and we hit it hard for a few hours. Like me, Lynn was in excellent physical condition largely thanks to the physical labor at the farm. Around 7:00 I suggested we head back to the ski house.
As we got into the house, I was mentally preparing for the ride home, but Lynn surprised me. "I'm not going back home right now and neither are you", she said quietly, looking at the fireplace. "Please build a fire."
"What?" I laughed. "It's 7:15 Lynnie. We gotta get home."
"Not tonight. Evan and Chase are covering for us tomorrow, and I have Big Danny and his son in the afternoon if necessary. I need some time off, you need some time off, and you're going to spend it with me! Now get moving!" and she slapped me on the ass, a "Lynnie", which she did to everyone.
"Like I always say, when the boss lady says build a fire...you build a fire!" I said, laughing. "Wow, that's great! Time off at last."
