Granddaddy

Though he was not killed in action, Memorial Day always stirs memories of my grandfather, a veteran who came home. So, in honor of those fallen, I am remembering my grandfather. Because of their sacrifice, I have had the privilege of life lived with my Granddaddy!

He left us just a few days before we knew we were expecting Gator. I see his money sense in his first great grandchild. "Never invest money in the stock market that you can't afford to lose," he said. Hubs and I bought our first car together just a few days before he passed. I like to think he was tickled that we paid cash for it. I was sure to tell him too.

I see his tenacity in the one who bears his name (Bull is named for him), though some may call it stubborn or strong-willed. These traits can serve a person well, if used properly.

My eldest niece has his twinkling eyes - bright blue, calm, piercing. In fact, all of his great-granchildren (so far) have blue eyes, but hers are the most like his.

He had beautiful silver hair and his favorite color was yellow.

He spanked me once for sassing him (I deserved it).

His hands were the lined, calloused hands of a working man - a farmer and mechanic. Yet they were pristine, clean nails neatly trimmed.

He used his small pocket knife for everything. The crinkle of a peppermint wrapper instantly takes me back to Sunday mornings at my grandparents' Church. He always had a pocket full of peppermints that he would send down the pew just before the service started. We learned quickly how to keep that cellophane quiet.

His pecan trees still bear fruit every year, though the rows of his garden have been fallow for a long time. Those acre peas were the best tasting ones ever! I used to snap beans from his garden with my grandmother.

Even though the house was on city water, he still had a well for irrigation. I remember watching him turn on that faucet to get a swig of cold, delicious water after mowing his lawn with a riding lawn mower. There's a picture of my sister and me sitting with him on that mower.

His perfect teeth always held a toothpick between them.

He let me shift the gears in his truck when I was little. It was fun and nerve-wracking at the same time!

He wore ankle boots that zipped up the inside and short sleeve, metal snap-up shirts with chest pockets on both sides.

He hated bluejays and squirrels because they pestered his songbirds. He always had the bird feeder full of seed, and the bath full of water and knew the name of every bird that visited.

He loved the Braves, cherry cordials, and McDonald's (spoken MAC Donald's). My sister and I loved going there with him for lunch.

He served in the Pacific during the Second World War. Hubs finally got him to talk about his experiences - he never would tell us much. We made a shadow box for him the year before he died. He was so proud of that.

How I miss him.