Bits and Pieces...
"What was Grandpa like?"
"How come you never talk much about Him?"
Good question.
Lets' see....
I remember beady sweat dripping down his face when he was cooking cracklins, cabbage soup or grillin steaks. He made popcorn on the stovetop with a kettle and paper bagin' and cowboy pinto beans and ham that were darn worth the braggin.
I remember the soft pink bottoms of his stinky white feet, and the smell of Old Spice, Bruit and VO5 hair, combed nice and neat. A strawberry blond color, real similar to yours and the smell of suede, leather and turquoise- every time he'd open closet doors.
I loved to wrestle him in his chair and tickle his neck way up high, just to hear that infectious wheezy laugh like that cartoon puppy spy. He would pin me with his legs and if I'd wriggle... he'd just get tighter, then he'd foof and jump up sayin' "Did ya see that barking spider?"
There was nothing like being cuddled up in his arms, or sitting right close while he played and sang those songs. Silly songs on his guitar about chipmunks and logs, strumin' chords and chantin' rhymes 'bout horses and hogs.
He also sat and drew with us every once in a while, cartoon sketches and people faces were more his style. I remember one of an old man, who well may of been his dad, all weathered from the years of hard work that he had. And when he'd draw or do anything with a concentrated face, he'd stick his tongue out the side of his mouth and bite down to keep it placed.
He also had a side to him just as competitive as anyone, be it b-ball, pool or poker winning was all the fun. Then of coarse there were those crazy family football gatherings. The house full of noisy boys and men hootin' and hollering. Blue and grey were the colors plastered on the walls. We even had a "Cowboy" trash can stood 'bout 4ft tall!
The most exciting games were on those very special days when the Cowboys and the Lions came to share the field to play. Occasionally, when the Lions scored, you'd hear a high pitch scream, and three girls danced the victory dance cuz that was mama's team!
He'd give parties in the summertime out back around the pool, and entertained his guests with lights, music and misters to keep them cool. I remember when our family room was once a partial bar, with a pool table and a jukebox and lots of candy and nut jars. He loved to play the part of the stylish social guy, whose jokes and silly banter had them laughing till they cried.
He designed mom's dream kitchen in our new luxurious home with an acre lot to play in and mile high bushes where we'd roam. Like a maze they'd lead somewhere to an unexpected place and we had our own rooms too ....yes, our very own private space!
But I was barely thirteen then, and I would have traded it all in...
just to see him smile again.
How did he die? Well, that is a question I knew I'd have to answer someday. Which is one reason I don't talk much of him, since I am not quite sure what to say. He took his own life and that's a hard one to explain, but now that I'm an adult in the world, I can empathize with his pain.
It is not our place to ask God why when He allows hard things to endure. What He allows is for our good and on this point I am sure. Dad worked hard and in the end struggled just as we all do, through life to just get through a day and know His promises are true. For "whatever" reason God decided that his work on earth was done. I can rest in this, and trust Him that it was best for everyone.
Thank you for asking because it's good to sit and reminisce,
and talk about the good things in my father... more like this.
Labels: the earlier years
