Pop Pop

My grandfather's name was Primo Pauletti. My grandmother and older relatives called him 'Scrappy,' or 'Scrap' for short. Some of my uncles on my mom's side called him Uncle Primo. I called him Pop Pop, said quickly to sound more like Popop.

My grandfather was also the son of immigrants, immigrants from Italy. He was born in the United States, in Shea Town, Pennsylvania, a poor rural community outside Wilkes Barre. He had served in the army, worked in factories and for Pratt and Whitney. He'd been retired for () years before I first saw him.

Pop Pop was a bigger guy, pot bellied and friendly. He had a round head, slightly slanted towards the back, a stocky neck, thick abdomen and short legs. His once powerful hands were chubby now, like strong, calloused workers hands softened by age. He loved sports, talking with my Uncle Chet, fixing things around the house, and his tomato plants.

Pop Pop was my kind of guy: he watched baseball in the afternoons, ate when he was hungry (usually Grandma's meatballs or lasagna), and didn't have to take showers every day, he just washed his white hair, most of which grew on the sides of his head, in the kitchen sink every morning.

My Aunt Nancie was my grandparent's only child for a few years, and she was adopted. My mom came along () years later.