A Grand Dad

It was a tough week for patriarchs. Very tough. Ted Kennedy, Lion of the Senate, had nothing on Pop-op. With all due respect to the youngest of the Brothers Camelot, none of them had to raise two generations of kids in east Oakland.
I was aware of Pop-op, grandfather to a pair of families at my school, before I ever met him. He was the one who was walking the kids, cousins, down the hill every morning. When there was trouble, he was the one who showed up. The kids' mothers both worked, so Pop-op got the duty. He didn't mind. He was there to make sure that the his grandchildren got their education without any unnecessary fooling around. He would always listen to the teacher's concerns and make the promises for his descendants. He would also make sure that they would hold up their end. You could count on that.
When I got my first fourth grade classroom, I had Pop-op's grandson on my roll sheet. James struggled with math and his attention span as much as I did, and I was relieved to finally meet the man of the house when he was heading for trouble. Pop-op told me that I would see a difference in James, and he wasn't lying. It was no miracle and James squeaked by at the end of the year with a lot of help from me and tutors who never made a mathematician out of him, but he passed.
James' cousin Shelly was even more of a mixed bag. She could do the work, when she wanted to, but she didn't always want to. Pop-op knew that. We had a deal, that year. I told Shelly I wouldn't stop by at the end of the day if she was able to keep her mind on her studies, but when the drama got started, it sometimes didn't end. Sometimes I would make the call, but mostly I just waited until it was time for me to go home and I would ride my bike up the hill, stopping at the top and walking up the short flight of stairs to their front door.
In twelve years of teaching, I've made my share of home visits, but this was the only one where I felt truly welcome. I wasn't the enemy. Pop-op and I were on the same team. We both wanted the same thing: Shelly to pass fourth grade. As the year went by, my visits became less frequent, but I made Shelly and Pop-op a promise. I promised that I would stop by one day when there was good news. I kept that promise, and the three of us all stood in the front room while grandma fried up some chicken in the kitchen. I wondered if they might ask me to stay for dinner.
I didn't stay, but I still felt welcome. I got used to my regular smile and wave from the front porch. Sometimes he'd call out to me,"Almost Friday!" or "Have a good weekend!" Shelly passed the fourth grade, and the following year I still made my connection with Pop-op as I got to the top of the hill. I didn't see him walking Shelly's little brother to school as often. I saw him on the porch a couple of times when summer school started. Yesterday afternoon, as I was finishing up preparations for the new year, I heard that he had died. My ride home was a little longer, and I was proud of our work together. I'll be keeping an eye out for Shelly's little brother this Fall.