Do you ever
sit and question life and wonder what it would be like to be born into a
different family?
It is as if
my family has this unspoken standard to live up to. I do not follow that
standard though. Instead of following my parent’s dreams for me, I am pursing
my own.
I have
learned that you must do what makes you happy because you are the one who has
to deal with your choices in life and it is your life to live. That’s a lesson
I learned from the years I spent with my grandpa up until cancer finally won
the battle.
I love my
grandpa’s story. I wish I could truly capture the essence of what he went
through to get to where he was in life the day he died. I want to see the pain
and the struggle of his earlier years, because I am fully aware of what the end
result is and what his hard work brought him. But to get to this end there was a
beginning. All stories have a beginning. And this is my grandpa’s…
My grandpa
came from a humble beginning that shaped him into the kind and generous man who
people remember today. He was born to Italian immigrants in the small town of
Coal Hollow, Pennsylvania on December 18, 1938.
After high school, he worked in various industries before becoming
involved in construction in the mid 1960s.
He always said he was not a doctor,
lawyer, or accountant, so he had to find something that he could master in
order to provide for his family. He knew manual labor was his specialty and an
area in which he could thrive.
Varischetti Construction began as
Pop-Pop, one employee, and an old Ford pickup to get them to and from the small
excavation jobs they worked. In 1967, he purchased a sanitation business and
named it Varischetti Sanitation. Pop-Pop grew the business from just one truck,
to one of the larger, privately owned sanitation businesses in Pennsylvania. In
1986, he finished the construction of Greentree Landfill, which was the first
completely lined, state of the art landfill in Pennsylvania. After 19 years in
the waste management industry, he sold Varischetti Sanitation to
Browning-Ferris Industries but remained with BFI for a short time as a
consultant. In 1989, he started Apple Tractor, which still operates today as a
construction equipment dealership. He began Varischetti and Sons, Inc. in 1991
to provide consulting services for the waste industry, as well as real estate
development. In 1995, Pop-Pop, along with my dad and uncles, started Guardian
Elder Care, to purchase and operate nursing facilities. Guardian today owns and
operates 33 nursing facilities and includes, a rehabilitation services company,
a long-term care pharmacy, and a home/health company.
His name is
most often associated with the qualities of hard work and generosity. He was a
charismatic and motivational leader, and also the first one to lend a helping
hand. Pop-Pop was a very hard worker who always had a vision and a drive to
succeed. In addition, he was a charitable man who gave from the bottom of his
heart and never expected anything in return. He was a strong advocate for
giving back to his community and helping those in need. He believed everyone
was equal and deserved to be treated with respect, which is what made him so
likeable.
He had his share of adverse
situations, but he never used those as an excuse. Instead, he worked as hard as
he could each and every day and never accepted handouts. He paid his dues to
get to where he was in life. He valued the gift of life and always said every
day was to be enjoyed and was a blessing. He lived by the saying, “Dream big,
work hard, and have fun.”
Every
single day I question God and ask why he took my grandfather from this earth so
damn early. I know that I, and I speak for the rest of my family, as well as my
community, had far more to learn from him. He had so much more life left in
him.
I would do
absolutely anything to be able to live one more day with him. I would use the
entire 24 hours to my advantage. I was seven when he died. I had no idea what was
going on. Cancer was a foreign word to me. All I know is it meant that Pop-Pop
lost his hair and we spent a lot of time in the hospital. But one day, he just
stopped being able to play with me. He would just sit in his chair and I never
understood why he didn’t want to play anymore. He was my best friend. He played
whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. And looking back, no matter how sick he
was or how much it was probably literally killing him to do so, he would do it
for me.
He taught me so many life lessons which I hope
to pass on to my own kids someday. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t
think of him and the wonderful man he was.
Stories and
pictures are all that remain, yet I know that his spirit and dreams will last
forever.
