Lessons From My Grandpa

When I was in the third grade I remember my Mom telling me that my Grandpa only has a few years left with us and that I needed to spend time with him.  My third grade brain took the "few years" quite literally and I started to pray that my Grandpa would be around to see me go to Jr High. During that time I spent a lot of time with Grandpa. My Mom would drag me out of bed on early summer mornings and I would go to Grandpa's shop to pull nails out of old cedar fence boards so that he could use them to build birdhouses and such. He paid me 5 cents for every clean board, so I worked until I made 5 dollars and then I would go home. When Canton weekend would come around once a month, I would load up with Grandpa and spend the week selling bird houses with him. Grandpa would talk and talk to anyone that would listen... or look like they were at least. And he would always be sure to let them know that I was his Granddaughter.

Sometimes Grandpa would just take me fishing. One time his said the birds were in and we were going to go find them. So off we went...and came back with about 50 catfish, but you know how fishing stories go.

When Jr High came around, I thanked God that he was still around and asked that he would be around to see all of us graduate from high school. During those years Grandpa was at every thing that I did. Track, band, twirling, it did not matter I knew where I could find Grandpa; at the top of the bleachers, talking to anyone that would listen.

I have a lot of memories with Grandpa in them, smiling and talking. They are memories that will forever be in my heart because Grandpa went to be with Jesus two weeks ago.

I walked out of my parents house the morning after and expected to hear saws and nail guns ringing in his shop and as I walked by the place where he spent so much time I was expecting to hear him yell, "Hey! Where's your dog?" But it was silent...

The night he passed we were driving to Diboll I thought about the week I spent with my grandparents, two weeks before. I got to eat pork chops from Brookshires with my Grandpa and when Davison got lost in the woods Grandpa picked me up at the crack of dawn to go find him. As we rode around Diboll looking for him, Grandpa would tell me about how he use to go squirrel hunting in this neighborhood and how so and so use to live over there. I think God might of lead Davidson away for a little while so that Grandpa and I could have one last ride together. 

My mom told me I had a good week with Grandpa. I corrected her with "I had a great life with Grandpa". 

I remember him bouncing me on his knee as a child and singing "ride that horsey down town". I am sure like so many other songs he sang that it was just something he had made up.

I have years and years of sweet memories with my grandpa, I'm not sure how to even process it all yet. I am sure that I will spend the rest of my life reliving the good times and making sure that I love my kids and grandkids the way that Grandpa loved us.

I learned a lot from Grandpa, lessons that far exceed how to build a birdhouse, catch a fish or mow a yard, the greatest thing he taught me was how to live life to the fullest. The man seemed to squeeze the most out of every day and he did it by love. My Grandpa loved more pure and more deep than anyone I know and his love was truly unconditional. He loved God, his family, sports and food. Boy did he love food. In fact the last time I talked to him was Saturday night. I had facetimed my mom and she was on her way to his house. When she gave him the phone he was enjoying a bowl of chocolate ice cream, I know not because I saw the bowl but because he had a ring of chocolate around his mouth. 

He celebrated his family; every little achievement was a big deal to Grandpa. He made me feel like I was the greatest- my senior year in high school I was the feature twirler and my picture ended up on the front page of the Lufkin Daily News. Later that afternoon I pulled in the drive and Grandpa hollered at me to go up there. He met me with a huge smile and a sharpie and said, "I want the fist autograph" I didn't know what he was talking about until he grabbed the closest thing to him, a small license plate, and said, "here sign your name on this and put feature twirler by it". He hung it up right then and I'm sure it still hangs there today. 

I could write a book about the love my grandpa had for my grandma and our family but I think I better stop before I get carried away.

I have a picture in my mind of Grandpa's recliner. He would sit there at night as he watched sports and monitored the neighborhood; he knew everyone's head lights and would expect a reason for us coming or going late at night. It is so strange to see it empty... I guess that the perfect metaphor for how our life will be  with out him here. My heart aches for our family and everyone that knew Grandpa. I am sad for my future children because they will never know how great he was. 

I'm going to miss his smile, his laugh, all the goofy things he use to say and how no matter what he always ended our conversation with "You be good, Grandpa loves you".

 A piece of me is in heaven today. 

But.  

I thank God that this is not where my grandpas life ends. It is where it begins because when he took his last breath on earth he took his first in eternity. That is where I find my peace. I will see my grandpa again.