Remembering Grandaddy

I miss my Grandaddy. He was one of few people in my life that I could talk to about anything, even as a child. (Although I didn't have that much to talk about at that age!) But now that I'm older there are so many things that I find myself saying, "Man, I wish Granddaddy Hugh was still here so I can talk to him about this!"

Granddaddy Hugh was a fine man, grey hair and all. He didn't play any games. He was a ladies man. They still were trying to get on my granddad in his older days. LOL He was a man's man, masculine and strong, yet tender-hearted, thoughtful, and sweet. I thought nothing could ever harm this man. And even though he was ailing right before my eyes, I never saw that, until near the end. All I saw was the strength he had. I felt safe when I was with him, and not because of the rifle that he kept at his front door that was almost taller than me.

I always wanted to be with my Granddaddy. He was attentive to me, protective, stern, yet playful. A nice man. I still remember his smile. And the brown paper bags he always made into a hat in the summer to keep his bald head from over-heating. (lol) And I still remember the trips we would take up to his house in Canada; a nice big ranch home on a huge field. He'd let me ride with him on the lawnmower tractor to cut the tall grass. It was so much fun.

I often wish that he was still here to see how I've grown, how I've faired, gave me advice, scared away a few guys with his rifle who I didn't need to be giving the time of day...lol. It's been a long 19 years since he passed. For a while I was angry at him for leaving me. I was too young to understand. But it hurt me the last time I saw him. I finally knew that he was loosing his battle. His drinking had finally caught up with him and destroyed his liver. It was the first time I saw him weak, struggling, and helpless. I didn't want to see him like that. I wanted to remember him in all his strength and vigor. And I most certainly didn't want to lose him that young.

I knew that Granddaddy struggled with drinking. But I always looked past all that. I just knew I loved him and he loved me. I was very compassionate of him. In my eyes he could do no wrong. I thought eventually he'd stop and he'd be OK. But he didn't stop. There were so many things throughout the course of my life that I wanted him to be a part of. Or even to thank him for taking the time that he did with me. He taught me how to ride a bike. Taught me how to take the pain when I fell off the bike and made me keep riding. He gave me my first driving lesson (on his lap of course). We had a special bond. That was the first time something that close and dear to me was taken from me. Gone too soon...too soon for me that is. But I have lived. I'm no longer naive of his faults, but I appreciate the strength he showed me and the small seeds he planted. I think Granddaddy Hugh would be proud of who I have become.

L8r:
~faithful