By Jon Hilton
I have been blessed to have had a relationship with all of my grandparents and six of my great-grandparents. This article is about my Mother’s Father, Lloyd Pickett, Jr., or Grandpa to all of his grandchildren. Today he is on my mind and I can’t help thinking about all of the good things he did for me in my life. I wanted to let him know that he was appreciated and will be missed for what he did and who he was. Here’s to Grandpa Pickett, Lloyd Pickett, Jr.
When we were growing up, every summer for a week or two our parents let us go stay with Grammie and Grandpa, and for most of that time they lived in New Gloucester, Maine. Staying at their place was awesome for a kid. My Grandfather trained and raced horses for a living. These were Standard Bred Horses and this was harness racing. That means they used a cart. I always have had a fascination with the horses and the races. Grandpa could tell me, “We gotta get up at 6 and you are going to shovel horse crap for three hours.” , and I would have had trouble sleeping because I was so excited. My brothers and I followed him around and soaked in the atmosphere and the lifestyle that my grandparents lived. What ever Grandpa liked, we liked. What ever Grandpa did, we did. Some of my best memories of him were when we would jog the horses. We would get to take turns riding on the jog cart with him and we would follow the circular track listening to the rhythmic clip-clop, clip-clop of the horses hooves. Grandpa would often hum and sing along to the beat of the horses hooves as we moved around the track. I can’t remember the tune, but I can remember the song, and feel the sound in my memory.
I also loved race day. When a horse was racing, we would get to go to Scarborough Downs and watch. I didn’t know anything about gambling then, but I really loved being at the track. My brothers and I would get to race around and watch the horses and make bets with each other. We would wait for Grandpa to bring his horse out to warm up and watch him roll around the track, and yell and wave at him, even though Grammie always told us, he wasn’t supposed to wave back. Then if he won we would get to go into the winner’s circle and get out picture taken. It was awesome. Then on the way home, if we were good, we would usually stop at McDonald’s, and what kid didn’t like that? I remember this mostly because Grandpa always called shakes, frapes, I never really understood why. Also to this day, if I go to McDonalds and eat inside, I have to sit where I can see my vehicle, because Grandpa always did this to make sure nobody was messing with the horses. I don’t have any horses but I still follow this practice to the letter.
At Grammie’s insistance, probably to get us out of her hair for a little while, we would also play a lot while we were there. We went fishing in the river behind their place, we played baseball, whiffle ball, rode bikes and we even had races of our own around the track. It was about a half a mile, I am often in awe of the things we did for fun, today it would be punishment for kids to participate in activities like that but we really did love it. Grandpa used to be a great baseball player back in the old days,(he told us this), so when we were throwing the ball around, he would come out and play catch with us. He never used a glove…..I always liked that.
Inevitably the time would slip by, and soon my parents would return to collect us so that we could continue on our summer at home. I always loved those times and the memories of them are stored away to be recalled with a smile and a warm feeling, when I think of my Grandfather and what he meant to me as a boy growing up in Maine.
Anyone who knows me well, knows that I can be stubborn. Grandpa has been stubborn his whole life. He always refused to let anyone tell him what to do at any time. When he wanted to do something, he did it. As I write this it sounds a lot more like me than I thought. The past few years, as his health has been failing, he has been clinging to life with an iron grip, you have to envy. He underwent cancer surgery, when the doctors told him it would kill him. He had a pace-maker put in, even though the doctors said it probably would kill him. He has been trying to cling to every second of life that he can. My Grandmother Pickett, was just the opposite, when she felt it was her time to go, she said good-bye to her children and peacefully passed on. Grammie knew it was her time and really seemed to be at peace with it. Grandpa is not going that way, he is not going anywhere without a fight. I admire that in him, and even though I know that eventually he will lose that battle, every time he fights back it is a testament to the toughness inherent in our collective heritage.
As time has gone by, and I have been wrapped up in the happenings of my own life, I am regretful that I didn’t see Grandpa more over the past few years. It always seemed that circumstance or distance was in the way. When we lived relatively near each other, I was too busy to find the time to visit. The one thing that I have learned is that I was never that busy.
********** Lloyd Pickett, Jr. Passed away on May 30th, 2011 at approximately 7:55 PM at the Hospice House in Auburn, Maine. Rest In Peace Grandpa.
