The Little Cockroach

My grandfather, William “Bill” Loughran, age 86, passed away unexpectedly on Monday, July 22, 2019 in Myrtle Beach, SC. He was born in New York October 21, 1932 to William and Cecelia Loughran. Bill graduated from Andrew Jackson High in Cambria Heights, NY and went on to serve in the United States Navy from 1950–1954. After serving, he became a supervisor with the NY Telephone Company and later Bell South in Greensboro, NC. He retired and then opened his own construction business in South Carolina. He and his wife Barbara were married for 64 years and have three children.

This is a story about him and what he taught me.

I’ve always hated cockroaches.

Most people do — they are creepy, scuttling, sometimes hissing creatures that appear in the corner of the living room when you’re watching a movie and scare the ever-living hell out of you. They scurry across your kitchen counter with their weird spiky legs and why do some of them fly?!

People hate cockroaches. And I hated cockroaches when I was little because I was a girl and we weren’t supposed to like bugs unless they were the pretty ones like butterflies. And I was a spitfire of a child because I’m an Aries and Irish and Italian with some German and maybe some French too, I’m not sure anyone in the family really knows.

And that’s why Grandpa called me his little cockroach. I hated it so much and I would cry and pout and give him the silent treatment until he squeezed my leg and called me a little butterfly instead.

But he would always laugh and give me a wink and it was our thing and he called me his little cockroach every time I saw him.

And that’s just how Bill Loughran was.

He never took things too seriously. He loved to joke and play pranks and laugh — he had the best laugh.

Bill Loughran loved the beach. And when I say he loved the beach I mean he really loved it. He even had a “LUVZBCH” vanity plate.

My fondest childhood — and many of my adult — memories are from time spent with my grandparents in Myrtle Beach. They built a wonderful, happy life there, filled with shells and palm tree decor and dancing on Wednesdays. They loved to dance. I stood on Grandpa’s feet for years and years while he patiently, yet unsuccessfully, taught me how to waltz.

Grandpa is the reason I have an affinity for treasure, as he would take me and my brother on hunts with metal detectors along the shore. He had this box filled with coins and necklaces and rings and things that surely would be of value someday. Perhaps that’s why I hang onto shiny objects like a magpie.

My best friend Meredith came to the beach with us often. One time a spider fell into her dessert and grandpa plucked the spider out, chuckled, and said, “We’ll give that one to the neighbors.”

And, just to get under my skin, he called her a beautiful butterfly and me his little cockroach with that wink and smile.

It feels strange to think about cockroaches when someone you love so much passes because it feels inappropriate, but every time I have seen a cockroach in my life, I’ve thought of him.

I’m not sure Grandpa actually knew anything about cockroaches even though he knew a lot of things and bestowed knowledge of metal detectors and carpentry and card games and dancing and the world and so many topics that have surely helped me in trivia.

But in this terrible loss, I’ve found a lesson from Grandpa calling me his little cockroach.

Most people will tell you cockroaches serve no purpose, but this is a lie. They actually are very important to our planet and ecosystem — I could go on and on about how essential they are to the circle of life, but that is not the point of this story.

A recent study found that cockroaches are becoming immune to insecticides. And not just regular immune — super immune. People are already scared of cockroaches because they seem to be indestructible. Many have anecdotes about the cockroach they destroyed only to find it still living without a head.

You see, cockroaches are extraordinary. And they’re magnificently resilient. They are ancient bugs. They’ve been around for over 320 million years and have existed around dinosaurs and through ice ages and extreme heat and… they just survive.

I never saw Grandpa lose his cool — well, maybe once or twice when his hammer slipped and he lost a fingernail. Generally, he had this calm demeanor and ability to tell me everything would be okay no matter what. He had this pure joy from life and Grandma and his family and making stuff and just being.

I have always admired the relationship between my grandparents. They were married for 64 years — together for even longer. Apparently, one of Grandpa’s exes tracked him down a while back, and Grandma shut that down by sending her a photo and writing “Celebrating 50 happy years together!”

They did everything with each other, and despite having issues like everyone else, they had the ultimate marriage.

Every morning, they ate breakfast together and read the newspaper while Grandpa sliced a banana into his cereal. A few hours later, they would share a bagel. In the evenings, they’d have drinks. They even napped at the same time.

They were funny together, with Grandma yelling, “Bill, I told you!” because she’s always right. Their love for each other was everything people wish for in fairytales. No matter what was going on, they always said “I love you,” and I am so grateful to have witnessed such a pure, unconditional love like theirs.

This man went through so much — more than I will ever know. But even in the darkest times, I knew Grandpa to always look on the bright side.

He taught me to keep my chin up and to stay strong in the face of adversity. He taught me that it’s okay to laugh, even if it’s not exactly the time. He taught me to dance and hunt for treasure. He taught me how to play card games and let me beat him in checkers. He taught me to sit up straight and to always indulge in ice cream after dinner, preferably with coffee — though maybe don’t give coffee to a 7-year-old. He taught me to live in your goofiness and be unapologetically who you are. He taught me how to be a great partner and what true love looks like.

And most importantly, he taught me to be resilient, just like a little cockroach should be.