“You can’t take it with you, so you might as well spend what you have and enjoy it!”

Wise words to live by from my grandfather. Generous to a fault, Grandpa George was always giving away money, but with good reason. Usually it was to help someone else; a family member, or perhaps a stranger. He once brought a family whose car broke down, back to his house for dinner. This was at the surprise of my grandma, who barely had enough to feed their own kids. Somehow, Grandma made the meal stretch to feed everyone.

Grandpa even set them up in a hotel for the night. Plus, he gave them some cash to tide them over until they got back to their home. Although money was tight at the time, he still reached into his pockets and gave them what he had.

Similar stories surfaced after he died from family members, friends, neighbors and even people we had never met before until they showed up at Grandpa's funeral. One man told the story, " If it wasn’t for Mr. Haluska, I wouldn't have been able to receive the medical care to repair my vision, and pay for my glasses."

Another man, shared the story of a time when he was awarded a scholarship to DeLaSalle High School. His parents told him he would have to turn the scholarship down. They didn't own a car and had no way of driving him to school. My Grandpa heard of his plight and drove him to school every morning until he graduated.

I’m sure there were many more tales like that we’ll never know. Grandpa didn’t boast about his random acts of kindness; another reason we loved him so much. He was humble.

George John Haluska died over sixteen years ago. His generous spirit lives on in the people he touched here on earth. Today I’m fondly remembering him, because it would have been his 107th birthday. Forgive me if I’m Haluskanating again. (That’s my personal slang for reminiscing.)

Grandpa George had a zest for life. He was so much fun to be around. Grandpa loved a good fight and would pretty much pick on you until he got one. I loved hearing the goofy songs he sang on the way to the cabin, most of which I thought he made up… Barney Google, K-K—Katie were two that brought many giggles to us grandkids. He taught me how to catch and scale a fish, how to speak up and stand up for myself, and how to raise a loving, caring family.

Long before he was our beloved Grandpa, he was a young whippersnapper from Northeast Minneapolis. He grew up on Marshall Street, a melting pot of settlers who came from Eastern Europe, in search of a better life in America. The only surviving son of immigrant parents, he enjoyed a carefree youth and according to his sisters, was somewhat spoiled. George ran with neighbor boys in pure Tom Sawyer fashion. He was known for brazenly diving off bridges into the waters of the mighty Mississippi on hot summer days and sneaking into the nearby Polish Palace Pub at night. His older sisters were often sent to collect him from the bar, which may have required a few extra Hail Mary’s due to his strict Byzantine Catholic upbringing.

Grandpa grew up quickly when he enlisted in the Merchant Marines. That’s where he picked up his culinary skills, serving on KP duty, which we benefitted from, at countless family dinners. Holubki (stuffed cabbage) was one of his ethnic specialties and he had a way with roasting meats that I’m still trying to duplicate.

Eventually he carved out a successful career in sales with American Linen, a job that led to the fateful meeting between him and my grandmother. As the story goes, it was love at first sight when Grandpa strolled into the beauty shop where Edith Erickson worked. Grandpa joked, he was, “getting his hair curled.” He was actually selling linens to her boss. Three to four months later, they were married. It was not with the blessing of either family. They came from different backgrounds and religions. She was from a first generation Swedish Lutheran family that had settled in Cambridge, Minnesota. His Carpatho-Rusyn family’s church required their marriage ceremony be held in the broom closet, or at least that is what my Grandmother called it. At that time the Catholic church had strict rules regarding people of different faiths marrying at the alter. Despite those obstacles, I’d say it was a match made in heaven, as it produced many blessings including; 5 children, 15 grandchildren and numerous great grandchildren.

Family gatherings grew large quickly and there wasn’t much space in their tiny house. Regardless, there was always room for more. Whether we were piling into the station wagon for a trip to the cabin, or squeezing into the dining room for supper, there was plenty of love to go around. My grandparents had a way of making each one of us feel like we were their favorites. Whenever he had a little extra cash, he’d take the family out dinner to celebrate, or give one us grandkids a loan for anything we needed. I don’t think he ever collected on those loans, except maybe in hugs. Grandpa always gave the best bear hugs, which I do so dearly miss.

Grandma and Grandpa’s marriage set a wonderful example for all of us to follow and they didn’t mind giving advice on the topic; with a dose of humor, of course, from Grandpa:

“As long as I do in a roundabout way, what she wants, then it’s alright.”

“What’s hers is hers and what’s mine is ours.”

“Have lots of arguments and come back for more!”

A hearty chuckle followed those tips. When asked how he’d rate their marriage, he solemnly answered,

“We’ve been married almost forty-six years, so it must be alright.”

I’d say it was more than alright, those forty six years stretched into sixty three years. They stuck by each other until the very end in the nursing home, where they were granted special permission to share a room. During those final years together, more stories of Grandpa’s generosity were shared by countless visitors. Apparently, whenever he gave away what little he had, it often came back in unusual ways. Neighbors helping him build something he needed, baked goods, opportunities and sometimes there was a cash windfall. Always, a new friend.

They remained together until Grandpa passed away in 2005. There wasn’t a U-Haul behind his hearse on the way to the cemetery, but there was a very long procession of family and friends to honor him and his philanthropy. His legacy lives on not only through his family, but his many acts of kindness that impacted strangers along the way.

Grandma finally joined Grandpa in heaven, six years later. I’m sure they are celebrating together today with love and laughter, sending heavenly hugs from above. Happy Birthday, Grandpa!