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life
September 2007 
Sim
Posted on Dec 31st, 2005
by 
Mikey
Mikey
The first memory of my Grandfather, was when I began to call him "Sim." I was
three or four years old. While standing on my Grandfather's wharf one day, I heard his
friend call him "Sim" - short for Simeon I later learned.
"Sim?" I asked. "Grandpa, I thought your name was Grandpa?" Grandpa was his
name. Why would anyone call him "Sim?"
With the usual twinkle in his eye, he said, "Well, that is my name, but I am
Grandpa to you." He didn't convince me. From that day on he was "Sim."
Sim was a big man who loved to laugh and tease. I was gullible and, therefore, a
great source of amusement to him. He teased me constantly. I was at his house one day.
Grandpa and Grandmum were eating watermelon and gave me some. I said, "This is
good. Too bad we can't grow them here."
"Sure you can." Sim said. "Just take the seeds and put them in the ground."
"No you can't!" I replied. "It's too cold here."
"Yes you can! When I was a boy we grew them all the time. They were the
biggest watermelons you ever saw. They're easy to grow."
This was big news. I rushed home with a hand-full of the seeds, banged through
the door and yelled, "Mum! Mum! I'm going to grow watermelons!"
"You can't grow watermelon around here! It's too cold!"
"I can too!"
"Who told you that?"
"Sim did. He said he grew them when he was little, and they were the biggest
melons he ever saw."
Mum told me later, she was visiting grandpa and asked him about the melons. She
said he laughed like a silly person, because he'd tricked me.
Sim and Grandmum had 10 kids - two died at birth. They lived in a three-
bedroom house: one for Sim and Grandmum, one for the girls and one for the boys. He
was a good man with a big heart that he tried to hide. He never hugged me that I
remember, but I knew he loved me. He took me trout fishing - lying about the big trout he
used to catch and the days when he would sit by the lake and could see the big trout
swimming around. We never caught a thing, but he swore they used to jump right into
your lap in the "Old Days."
Everyone knew and liked Sim. He was a people person and loved to talk. In his
late years, he would sit on his porch and chat with anyone who passed by. They talked
about the decline of the fishing industry or just good ol' gossip. He worked hard all of his
life. Once I saw him, in his 70's, carry a 10 foot log several miles. He needed it for his
wharf, so he just went and got it. He never gave up.
When he was a young man, Sim developed a blood clot in his leg. He recovered,
but every few years an ulcer would form on that part of his leg. It would take several
months to heal. It happened once when he was in his 70's. I was working nights, so I had
my days free. I volunteered to take him to the hospital for his twice-a-week treatments.
It was during those trips, that I learned a lot of family history. Every section of
road had a story. The time he came along with his rifle and met several men standing by
the road, trying to shoot a deer a great distance away. He took his rifle, aimed, and got the
deer. I‘ve heard, in his day, he was known for his shooting skills. I've seen his old rifle.
The stock and grip were mostly worn away and there were no sights on the barrel. I doubt
I could shoot a bottle at 10 feet with it.
He told me of the time he and several friends hunted moose illegally and were
caught by the game warden. They gave the warden a hind quarter of the moose and
walked away free men.
It was a different time and a different way of life. The climate in Nova Scotia is
too cold to grow most vegetables. These men fished and hunted to survive, selling just
enough to buy the produce they couldn't get themselves. They had family values, and
helped those in need. Even though they had little, they were happy. I learned all this on
our trips to and from the hospital.
Sim was in his early 90's when his memory began to fail. One day they found
him lost and confused, wandering in the street, trying to find his way home. It was
decided it was too dangerous for him to be on his own, and he was admitted to a seniors
home.
My wife, two children and I visited him often. During each visit, I could see the
change in this once strong, proud man. "You have two kids?" he would ask. "I thought
you only had one." He didn't remember Justin being born.
A few visits later, "You have two kids? I didn't know you had kids."
Later still, "You're married now? Is that your wife?" He'd point to Georgia. It
broke my heart.
Sim was 94 when the first stroke hit him. It caused enough damage that he
could no longer get around, but when nurses tried to help, he fought them like the strong
and proud man he once was. Even at the age of 94, it took two strong orderlies to control
him. Not long after, another stroke took his life. A great man was gone.
When I was in my 30's, my aunt handed me a picture of Sim in his early years.
It was like looking in a mirror. Sim gave me his genes, his sense of humor, and his love
to talk. Sim's not gone. He's sitting here writing this story.
Love you and miss you, Sim. Thanks for making me you.
Michael T. Smith
Access: Public
