I remember the joy I felt when Kevin was born, our first grandson.  Upon gazing at him, I realized how precious he was.  Deep in my heart, however, I knew life wasn’t going to be easy for him at times.

His first experience with hard life was when he and his parents motored to Almont, North Dakota’s rural area to visit his other grandparents.  He became ill with an intestinal problem, causing extreme diarrhea and dehydration.  Neither of his parents, being young and new at parenthood, or even his grandparents knew what to do for him.  In a few days they headed for home, reaching our place first.  That baby was in trouble.  All I could think of was to get some fluids in him and nurture him.  Jackie, his mom, didn’t know much about nurturing – neither did, Doug, his dad.  I held him and rocked him and crooned to him.  This helped him so much.

My second memory was how fearless he was as a little one.  The ordinary pitfalls of life didn’t seem to daunt him.  My heart would stop when I watched him go down steps when he could hardly walk.  He’d walk right to the edge, then quickly turn around and go down backwards.

Since his family lived quite a distance from us, first in Missoula – then to Superior – then to Eureka, California – then to the Los Angeles area – we didn’t get to see Kevin grow day by day.

When Kevin was just 5 years old, his parents separated, which was bewildering to him, especially since neither parent could seem to talk to him about it.  But he seemed plucky, getting through each day as best he could.  We the grandparents temporarily moved to their area and lived with Kevin and his dad for a while during this time.  I think it was a good distraction for him.  I got to know him better.  We also brought Sandy and her little boy Jon with us so Kevin had to adjust to four more people in his home.  Kevin had lots of activity and people around him and I believe this made the absence of his mom less painful.  Jon learned to look to Kevin as an older brother and has continued to throughout their lives to this day.  Jon’s heart nearly broke to lose him.

The first Sunday after we moved to their area (West Covina), I wanted to attend church services.  Doug sent Kevin along to show me the way – now this is the Los Angeles Area – I had no idea how to cope with all that traffic.  But Kevin had so much poise, and he knew how to handle the traffic – he would direct me: “You have to get in this lane or that lane in order to be able to get off the street into the church parking lot.”  He knew exactly where the Catholic Church was and how to get to it.  He seemed so mature for his age – a lot like his son Kyle is now at 7 years of age.

In the fall of that year (1968) he started kindergarten.  It was a new experience for him and a bit upsetting.  As I watched him walk across the street with the other children and the person responsible for their safety, I was astounded to notice a couple of mannerisms of his great grandfather Clark Printz, especially his walk.  I continued to walk Kevin to and from kindergarten every day.  It was a labor of love.

As a boy, Kevin slept with his eyes open – this was quite startling.

Kevin’s second experience of hard knocks was when his mom and dad separated again when he was twelve.  He was heartbroken for a long time, convinced that he was to blame for his mother’s leaving him and his dad.  Kevin and I had many heart-rending talks over the phone over this.  Then his dad realized Kevin’s heartbreak and consequently the two shared their feelings and talked them out together and began to do things together and he began to heal.

Kevin and his dad made frequent visits to us here in the Bitterroot, which allowed us to know him better.

Kevin was creative and handy with tools.

When Kevin was in his teens and came to visit us, he and I enjoyed watching lightning and thunderstorms together.

When he joined the Navy, I was so proud of him.  I wonder if I ever told him that – or told him often enough.

Kevin and his Uncle Paul got into SCUBA diving before he went into the Navy.  When he was stationed in Hawaii, he did a lot of underwater exploring and picture taking of the ocean floor.

Kevin always did things with a passion, giving it his all.

Rapport with his mom still wasn’t going well.  She didn’t seem to have the ability to relate to her son.  This caused Kevin still more heartache.  Kevin and I shared many a telephone call.  Life, at times, was troubling to him and we shared this together.

I miss him so much – and his phone calls.  He always ended the call with “I love you” – he said this two days before he was called to heaven.

Rest in Peace my dear love!

Eva Printz – August 1999