A Sales Homie Salute: My Grandpa

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This week’s blast will take a slightly different turn from normal. I wanted to honor and write a tribute to my late Grandpa Isaacson.

My Grandpa Isaacson passed away at the age of 91 on March 23, 2023. He was born in 1932 in Whitehall, Wisconsin, and spent his entire life in a small handful of western Wisconsin communities. He married my Grandma in 1952 after a brief stint in the United States Airforce and went on to have three daughters, their firstborn being my Mom, Sharon.

For most of my childhood and adulthood, Grandma and Grandpa resided on a farm in Foster, Wisconsin, southeast of the regional community of Eau Claire, Wisconsin.

The picture above was taken on my wedding day, October 7, 2016. What’s funny about that day, is my Grandma mentioned to Grandpa, “Since we’re all dressed up, we should have the photographer take our photos; we can use them in our obituaries someday.” Or something like that.

You can see his picture, the matching suit, and the tie in the obituary, below.

Grandma lived up to her wishes!

My Grandma has always been over-loving, and always caring. She’s the type of Grandma that literally will grab your cheeks on your face and do ‘that Grandma thing,’ all mushy and kissy. She made sure that all of us cousins would have seconds, or thirds even, for every meal. And be darn sure that you leave with a plate or more of leftovers; hearty farming families need to eat! During her hay days, she, like my Mom, was a great cook.

Grandpa was the more stoic, farm-bull who never rested. He played VP to President Grandma but was just as chatty and social. During my early adult years, he had since retired from any full-time farming and spent his time driving a school bus for the local district. He was always on the go, tinkering around the farm, which literally provided him and Grandma an extra 8-10 years of independent living; I’m convinced.

To be 43 years old and have had two of my Grandparents (who as recently as a year ago, still lived independently on their own at the farm) was truly a gift. My Grandma, although heartbroken with Grandpa’s passing, remains at the assisted living center in neighboring Osseo, Wisconsin.

My relationship with both Grandma and Grandpa Isaacson had grown into a loving and supportive adult relationship over the last 15+ years. Something that I’ll cherish in both practice and memory, for the rest of my life.

Grandma & Grandpa Isaacson represented the continuation of my family, after losing my Mom in 2009.

My family had moved to the Twin Cities (Minneapolis & St. Paul) from central Wisconsin in 1991 as my Dad sought a position at his employers’ corporate office. In 1993, my Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, which reshaped the trajectory of our immediate family over the next 16 years until her death in 2009, at the age of 55 years young.

I was 29 at the time.

But as a 13-year-old kid in 1993, the scary word “cancer” became commonplace in our home. Mom had it, dealt with it, and from the outside looking in, continued to beat it. Life was very normal (and fun!). And for the better part of 6 years, we associated Mom with being in remission and healthy!

When my Mom passed away in 2009, I was still very much living a part-adult and part-kid lifestyle. I hadn’t yet been married or become a father. My Mom wasn’t physically at my wedding in 2016. She wasn’t physically in the room to see our firstborn, Ensley (2019), or recently, our secondborn, Zayden (2022).

But Grandma & Grandpa Isaacson saw it all… sometimes I like to think, in Mom’s place.

Pictured above is baby Ensley, back in the spring of 2019. In a way, My Grandma and Grandpa looked at Ensley like they did their firstborn, Sharon, my Mom.

Family first, always.

Grandma & Grandpa Isaacson would always come to our home for Thanksgiving after moving to Minnesota. Grandma would always make Grandpa take a nap before they’d think about driving home. Driving? Yeah, no problem. Grandpa was driving him and Grandma around until he was almost 90 years old!

They couldn’t make the two-hour trip over to the Twin Cities anymore, but they could get to church and into town for groceries, or to see close-by family and friends.

The last time I saw Grandpa was in December of 2022. My Grandma joined Grandpa and turned 90, so my two Aunts planned a surprise party for her at their assisted living center. What was even more special, is that we hadn’t gotten to see them as often as we would have liked over the two years previous due to the COVID pandemic.

We would catch up on the phone and have fun sending pictures of the kids as they grew. We welcomed letters from Grandma & Grandpa, and sometimes small gifts, for Ensley and then Zayden, too.

Below is a picture of my family, and my sister and her husband and son, with Grandma & Grandpa Isaacson that we took the day of the party.

My last conversation with my Grandpa was like many before. We talked about the weather; every farmer talks about the weather.

“We’ve had so much snow this winter, Grandpa,” I said.

“Oh yeah, sure, it’s been quite the winter here, too. (clears throat) Ya know, we’ve even been stuck inside here (the assisted living center) a time or too.”

He asked how my job was going, and how we liked our new home (we recently moved, earlier that summer).

“Are ya feeling settled,” asked Grandpa. “If we didn’t have these two kiddos to chase around, we’d have more boxes unpacked,” I replied. That drew a laugh from Grandpa. “Oh yeah, they’re sure getting big,” he said.

As the party wound down, I could tell Grandpa was having one of his better days. What forced him and Grandma from the farm was a congestive heart failure diagnosis. He was up and next to Grandma, giving salutations and well wishes on everyone’s departing travels. Much like he and Grandma would do out the mud room door at the family farm for decades, previous.

“Well, we’ll see you next time,” Grandpa would say, offering his right hand for a shake. I remember I shook his hand, but also provided, and took a hug.

“We’ll see you then,” I said.

The moral of the story??I know this newsletter is about sales, strategy, and growth. However, I’d like to believe that there’s an element inside of me that is who I am today because of my Grandma & Grandpa Isaacson.

The successes. The failures. The challenges. The obstacles. The heartbreaks. The life lessons. All of it.

My Grandpa wasn’t a salesman. He was a community member. He was a respected farmer, friend, and family man. But beyond all else, he lived to support and provide for Grandma, who in turn lived to support and love her and Grandpa’s family that they created, together.

And that recipe would make anyone, in any profession, successful.

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