There are people in our lives who we realize early on are so central to our well-being that if we should lose them we would struggle to go on. My Grandaddy was one of those people. He was a tall, straight-talking Texan. Square of jaw and handsome in the John Wayne mold, he was the first man I ever loved.
When I was very young, my mother and biological father divorced and she and I lived with her parents, my Grandaddy and Nanny, for a time. I know this was a very difficult living arrangement for Mom, but for me, it was heaven. As the only grandchild I was spoiled rotten by three adults. Yes, pure, unadulterated heaven.
I remember tagging along with Grandaddy to early morning coffee. We’d sit with the local farmers, ranchers, and assorted businessmen who gathered daily at Leonard’s Cafe to solve the problems of the county. Standing up in the booth beside Grandaddy, I thought I was a grown up. He’d ask my opinion and listen with respect. After coffee we would go to the Fina station he owned, where I manned the counter and tried to stay out of the way. I’d go with him to the bank and he’d let me make the deposit. I really thought I worked for him.
Grandaddy smelled like Cigars and Old Spice. He smelled like home and safety and love. There was no place on earth like his lap.
Eventually my mom remarried giving me my Daddy, the second man I ever loved, but that’s a tale for another day. My brothers came along, my mom’s siblings had children, and soon I was no longer the only grandchild. But here’s the best part. Grandaddy’s lap could magically accommodate as many grandchildren as were present. And he managed to make each of us feel special.
I asked my brothers and my cousins to volunteer their favorite memories of Grandaddy:
“I remember when he had a comb-over and got caught in a gust of wind. I thought that was the funniest thing. He and Nanny, along with the chamber of commerce came to Houston, Jack brought them all to Gilleys. We had so much fun. That’s when I discovered how hip they really were. We went to lake Sommerville, his car broke down and Bubba fixed it. From then on he thought Bubba hung the moon. I think about him all the time and wish he was here to see all our grand babies. What a legacy he started!”. –Crystal.
The smell of his tobacco, his wisdom, his wit, sitting in his lap when i was little, the way he only had to look at me with those Jarrett eyes and I knew i better think twice before i did what I was thinking..lol, so much more….but most of all.. when he and nanny came to houston with uncle jack, Richard, mom, and a few more, we were somewhere that had a dance floor, and Granddaddy and I danced (waltzed) to “Waltz across Texas with you”, something I will never forget! He was a great man and I miss him and Nanny both everyday of my life. –Trena
When he and Kelly and I went to Ruidoso and stayed in the trailer and I fell in the creek and was afraid my “dollars” wouldn’t be any good anymore!! And as Trena said his smell!!!! I miss that most I think???Brent
He let me “drive” his gas truck. By drive, I mean he let me sit in his lap and hold the steering wheel while he drove but I sure thought I was driving! –Kelly
I never did get to dance with my Grandaddy. I wish I had, but for some reason, the opportunity never arose. We thought we had forever with him, but then he was diagnosed with a malignant melanoma. He fought for eight long painful years, but the cancer stole his spirit long before it took his life. In those last years he was just a shadow of the strong, larger than life man who’d held each of us on his lap.
The Grandaddy of my youth still visits my dreams now and then. In them he is robust and handsome, and he smells like cigars and Old Spice. When he asks me to dance, I always say yes.
Peace, People.
Praying for Eyebrowz 