This Sunday (19th June) is Father's Day here in the US. We wanted to have a special post about Grandpa so we can all share our memories of him.
Thoughts from
Fiti -
My father was such a workaholic not only to support his family but it was just his nature. My fond memories of my dad was leaving Lotopa, his family in town, to move to Saleimoa, my mother's family in the outer village of Samoa, in order to help take care of my grandma Lavalea. Because of his hard work and loyalty, her family bestowed upon him the matai title of "Fautua." He worked so hard to own up to his title by serving not only his wife's family, but also the village. He only left the village when his son Oscar had to be moved to NZ in order to have heart surgery to save his life. Family was the most important thing to our father so instead of just the 3 of them moving, the whole family was eventually moved to NZ. Dad continued his hard work ethics by working for a building construction company so he can afford to bring all his kids to NZ and settle there.
My dad was a great example to me of how to be a father and a hard worker. He was my role model as I became a father to my kids and a stepfather to my wife's kids. I just want to thank him for all that he has done for me, my brothers & sisters, nieces and nephews, and all the lives he touched. I love you dad, forever. Manuia le Aso Tama!
Memory from
Katie -
The memory I want to share about Grandpa was when were both in Texas at the same time which was about a year (or two) before he passed away. We talked a few times and enjoyed being together with all our family over there. I don't remember the conversations but I do remember how I felt. I just felt loved by him. Those words weren't said but the feeling was shared. I'm glad that I had those moments with him. I love you Grandpa!
Memories from
Noa -
I love and miss granpa Karl. I feel lucky to have had been able to spend time with Granpa though I didn't realize it at the time. When living at Arlington Apartments in Wellington, one of the things I used to do for him was run to the Hanky Street Store to buy his daily newspaper. He would have his morning coffee in a tin cup and read the paper for tab listings. Everyone knows how much he would walk every day to the TAB as mentioned before it was his daily exercise. There was a friend of his I forgot his name, that would visit from time to time. He was a sweet old man. He would also ask me too to buy his news paper. I didn't mind because sometimes Granpa and him would let me keep the change so I can buy candy. Back in those days 50 and 20 cents was a big deal to me. Granpa after rare winnings would give me change and I would feel very happy. I would laugh when he would try to convince Granma Tusi today was the day to win hahaha.
Another sweet memory when he worked as a kitchen hand at a nice restaurant. He took me one time and we worked together. The best part was bringing home some yummy cookies/biscuits. One of them were florentines, to this day when I make them I think fondly of that moment.
There were also times I massaged his legs from time to time, probably from walking a lot. I also remember someone mentioned he was on a bus and some Samoan guys made fun of what he was wearing, thinking he didn't understand next thing you know he is telling them off hahaha. I have to mention an embarrassing moment too, one Sunday a friend called to ask me to play. Granpa had no problem telling her off about playing on Sunday was wrong. I didn't get many calls hahaha. The last time he was here in the USA he had a stroke prior so he couldn't speak well. However when we were around each other no words could explain the feeling we had for one another. I felt so much love and appreciation for this great man. He was my father and grandfather. I wish him a special Fathers day because he will always be my dad:) Love you very much.
Memories from
Savea -
On this Father’s Day, I want to mention more than one ‘dad’ that has played a vital role in molding my life. Starting with my biological father, Samuelu Petaia, he’s of Tokelauan and Portuguese lineage. His Portuguese side is of the Pedro family and his great grandfather (my great great grandfather) was a Aliki or King of Tokelau. His father, Petaia was a LMS pastor several Pacific islands and is buried in Papua, New Guinea according to my source. Although I didn’t spend enough time with him, he would give me some money now and then. He also helped sent me a suit and other clothes for my church mission.
My other dad was also my grandpa To’alepai Meafua Muavae Aiono. I used to live with him in Lalovaea, Apia when he was a policeman. He really loves his oldest daughter or my mother, Tusifolau Situa Fialuma To’alepai Partsch and he took care of us when we left American Samoa. As a very strict Catholic, his dream was for me and his son Pio To’alepai or mom’s brother to be Catholic priests. Although very strict, he loved me and helped mold my life to be a close to God. But his dream of me being a Catholic priest didn’t come to pass when mom moved her family to Lotopa.
My third dad was Uncle Leota Aimeamiti Tilialo Luatua. Although he was also very strict, he too played a huge part in molding my life for the better. He was very proud of my achievements at the Church College of Western Samoa where he was also a teacher. Many of my school mates talked highly of uncle. Some said they owe him their progress in school from being a ulavale kid to a respectful and responsible adult. While I was a zone leader in Savaii during my mission, there was this church conference for all the members in Savaii. I also happened to be the choir conductor of one branch and he was so proud of me that he called for me to come on stage during his speech. He held a high position in the church and as a ‘dad’, he bragged to the congregation about me. The words that stood out in my mind that day from him was, “This is my son and I’m very proud of him.”
Last but not least, my dad, Fautuaali’i Karl Edward Partsch. As the tears are now flowing, I just don’t have enough words to say how much I honor and love dad for all that he has done for me. I’ve carried my biological dad’s name, I’ve carried uncle Leota’s name, but I didn’t carry Karl’s name until I was about to become a senior at CCWS. He never asked to change my last name. But as I looked back at all the years since he was my dad, there was nothing left but to honor him by taking his name. He never laid a hand on me! Oh yes, mother did that. He even took a bus to visit me with some goodies to Nofoali’I, my first area in my mission. He slept there and left in the early morning to go back to Pesega. When he made his will, he put only my name on it. I asked him why and he said he had faith in me that I will take care of my siblings. I asked him what will happen if I’m dead. It took a little while but finally he changed and put all of our names in the will. For many family matters, especially where the fa’aSamoa in concerned, he always ask or call me for my thoughts. There are more to write about dad but I will do that in the future.
Dad, you’ve done enough for me to show how much you love me as your son. Thank you, thank you and some day we’ll meet again.
‘HAPPY FATHER’S DAY’ DAD!!!
Thoughts from
Penina -
Growing up, I had very little contact with Grandpa Karl. Most of it was long before the internet, cell phones and other modern technologies made world wide communication a snap. Majority of my life, contact came in short paragraphs, something along the lines of:
"Hi Grandpa!"
"Hi Penina!"
"How are you?"
"Okay, Fa"
"Okay, bye Grandpa."
Keep in mind, this was way back in the dinosaur ages when we had to rely on fuzzy land lines. As a child, I never knew if our conversations were like this because the phone line was too crackled and delayed to really understand each other, if it was a language issue, or a combination.
This was the case for years, with an annual conversation around Christmas or more if I was lucky enough to interrupt the right phone calls my Dad would share with Grandpa now and then. When I was about 9 or 10, Grandma and Grandpa came to visit, along with Eddie. I guess I was too young to have many memories because what I remember most of that visit was that Eddie really like Michael Jackson and "breyhd" with "buttah" :)
Grandpa came again, years later. I can't remember when for sure, which makes it seem like an odd memory to share, but it was one stayed with me the strongest. I believe I was just starting high school. Yes, so I was roughly 14 or 15 I suppose. We were either moving into a house, or moving kids from one room to another room. Sina and I had bunk beds that we had previously kept stacked one above the other. Now they were going to be placed at either ends of the room, in the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Most of the furniture moved without trouble, from wardrobes to book shelves to knick knacks. Then came the bed.
For some reason Grandpa and Dad were having the hardest time fitting it through the doorway. They tried shoving it and pushing it, hammering the posts with their knees, fists and feet. My Dad's frustration seemed to fuel Grandpa's, which in turn fueled my Dad's further and so forth. Finally, Grandpa, with all of his rugged manliness, gave the headboard a swift and hearty kick! Had the headboard not been made of wood grain painted particle board, it might have worked. Instead, his foot went halfway through that board. I remember expecting all of us to share a laugh, take a break and then try again. Instead, neither Dad nor Grandpa shared even a chuckle. They didn't even exchange glances as he pulled his foot out. Instead, they re-furrowed their brows and continued to use every other machismo trick they had up their sleeves until that bed was in the room.
I slept on that bed for the next few years and never attempted to patch that crack above my head. I know that Grandpa's determination was to get that stubborn bed through the frame, but in my mind, it was just him doing what any good Grandpa does for his grand daughter. I also know that I was the only one who had a special memory attached to that crack in the wood. If anyone else remembers it, they certainly don't hold it dear with the humor and love that I do. I know it sounds absurd to assign so much passion to a seemingly insignificant occurrence, but like I said before, I had practically no contact with the man throughout my life. Even then, I know that I always loved him and he always loved me. That silly little crack in the wood was something of Grandpa that I kept right there with me every night. Like our relationship, it was not much at all, but it meant so, so much.
The photo that I'm sending is generally terrible - I may even receive hate mail from some. Despite all the bloated and distorted faces, Grandpa is there in the way that I remember him. Actually, he looks rather miserable and literally smothered by all of us. But really, in that pic, no matter how crazy we were that day, he is that stoic, solid as an oak Grandpa whom I loved so very much.
Happy Father's Day Grandpa!
Love you too much!!!
And Happy Father's Day to my equally amazing Dad too! (whom I owe a memory to, but it's very late and surely I won't be able to write sensible for much longer. lol)
In fact, Happy Father's Day to all of the Father's! Without all of you, we would not have this name, this ever branching family tree, this site, or these wonderful memories to share! Love you all!
Now it's your turn. Please share any thoughts/memories you have of Dad/Grandpa Karl. Please send to
partschfamily@gmail.com and I will update on this blog post.
