In the earliest memories of my life, he was there.

by Arantxa Villa

In the earliest memories of my life, he was there.

fourth year thomas brock

I knew his stories and built his image piecewise from his comically brutish mannerisms, his attention to detail, and his immeasurable gusto. Only later was his legacy as a builder a matter of great curiosity for me. He was my Grandfather, my Papi: Robert Venusti.

He gave everything he had to create a world for his family. He was a pioneer, always sweeping us in new directions and places unseen. But perhaps more importantly, marked down unforgettable spaces to call home. He could draft anything to great scale; and when he could, he built those structures with his own two hands. Even when he was rattled, and loud, and more stubborn than normal, it was to make things right for us. I spent a summer in Rhode Island to live and observe and work with this man. The things I learned can’t be shortened into parables. I learned more about myself than I learned about my grandfather. I went back to Rhode Island, but it was too late. His passing hurt me in a new way. Things were very different. The world seemed very lonely, without leadership. I appreciate now more than ever what I have, and the memories he has given me. 

When I returned home, I started wearing the  old hat Papi left me. I wore it to our weekly meetings, and suddenly realized the connection- the neatly embroidered Chappel Bell on Papi’s salmon pink hat. 

Being a senior is daunting- knowing that you are the world's problem now. The world seems so vast and so indifferent, but I carry Papi’s indomitable spirit. I know that making things right for myself and others will ensure I am never alone. I’m going to build my own world, piece by piece.