100 Pink Cupcakes

Our next destination was the small northern Utah town of Smithfield, my mother’s birthplace and the site of all my summer vacations growing up. While my mother’s family holds a reunion every year, this was an extra special one – the 100th anniversary of my grandfather’s birth.

Thanks to Grandpa’s love of all things strawberry, we downed a good amount of strawberry ice cream during our visits when I was younger. Things were no different as the 50+ of us gathered around, only this time it was served alongside 100 pink cupcakes (all of which my sister Amy and I frosted ourselves).

One of the things we looked forward to every year was the trip up the canyon for a cookout, riding in the back of Grandpa’s big red Ford truck. Come to think of it, the majority of the hot dogs and marshmallows I roasted growing up were part of those outings. Given the challenge of hosting such an event with a large group, this cookout was staged at a nearby park. But the fare was the same – hot dogs, watermelon, and s’mores. Yummy!

Another of my favorite activities was the visit to Grandpa’s barn. Though I have vague recollections of walking into the dim barn in the scorching heat, I was never fully introduced to this realm created and dominated by my tall, quiet grandfather. Here we found the myriad innovations he developed to help him manage the day-to-day of farm life. True to his Great Depression heritage, he had stashed and repurposed hundreds of items that today would wind up in the trash. My favorite was a cast-iron pot with an improvised wire handle buried in a pile of pans in the shop he used for shoeing horses. I was assured it would have belonged to his mother, an avid gardener and who raised in that same house the two children she bore in her mid-40s.

One reason I didn't spend much time in the barn growing up was that the trip involved crossing the cow pasture. Grandpa always kept cows and spent several hours each day milking and doing other farm chores. Aunt Sharon treated us to a fascinating explanation of the then-modern milking machine Grandpa eventually acquired to help him with the chores.

One afternoon Cousin Doug pulled up on a red 1946 tractor – the same one we used to look forward to rides on with Grandpa every summer. We piled onto a flatbed trailer studded with hay bales and took off for a spin. Doug’s warning that we should jump on before the engine stalled had been no joke – after several times jumping off and cranking it back up he finally brought Kyle in with the jumper cables. Despite the challenge of working with a 60+-year-old piece of machinery, those two managed to take two rounds of riders down the road and back.

On our final evening together my sister Bonnie set up a screen on the side of the garage and treated us all to a slideshow of Grandpa’s life, including many photos from his early childhood and growing up. What a great way to pay tribute to such a kind and loving man. I love you, Grandpa!

Next up - Smithfield Happenings