Granddaddy

My Granddaddy passed away this past Saturday morning (June 26, 2010). It wasn't tragic, nor was it a surprise. We all knew it was coming soon. My dad and uncle had already gone up to Tennessee to be with him and my Grandmother. Brent, Cyndi, Shaunna, Chris, Martha, and I all headed up there at various times on Sunday for the viewing/visitation, and the funeral service and burial were Monday.

Since Kimberly and Cohen couldn't make it (due to a nasty wasp sting on Cohen's eye...a story I've told 100 times since last week), I had a lot of time by myself on the way up to Nashville to think about Granddaddy and Grandmother. I flipped through the files of my memory and relived stories from my childhood. There was the time Brent, Shaunna, and I stayed at their house for a week while Mom and Dad were out of town, and Shaunna broke a handle on Granddaddy's treadmill. Granddaddy, rather than get mad about it (which we fully expected), used it to teach us a lesson in honesty and admitting your mistakes that I will always remember. There was the time (actually 2 times) we got lost in the expansive (well, they're expansive when you're 9 years old) woods behind their house. We were hysterical, screaming for help until finally we emerged from the woods into a field just around the corner from their yard.

There are a ton of stories I remember from being at Granddaddy and Grandmother's house. However, there is one that will forever stick out in my mind.

I was a very young adult...like 19...maybe even 18. We had gone to Tennessee at Christmas, as we do every year. For a while it had been hard to get everybody together at the same time. It just happened by chance, though, that everyone from Granddaddy and Grandmother down (Roy, Beverly, Michelle, Thomas, Carla, My Mom and Dad, Brent, Shaunna, and I) were all there at the same time. This had been very rare in previous years, as we grandchildren had started to grow older, get jobs, etc.

As we stood around the table before our Christmas feast (which, by the way, both of my grandmothers do an amazing job preparing), Granddaddy was about to pray over the meal before we chowed down. Before he prayed, he just said a few words about how glad he is that the entire family was there. He told us how thankful he is for all of us, and how special it is that we were all together. As he spoke, I saw something I had never seen before and I would never see again. Granddaddy got choked up. Tears filled his eyes as he gave his mini-speech.

Granddaddy was a stern man. He was very opinionated. I wouldn't call him a negative man, but there were plenty of things he didn't like, and he wouldn't shy away from telling you about them. On that day, though, I saw what was really important to him. Family.

While it's nice to branch out, do your own thing, make something of yourself, etc., we must not forget who we are and where we come from. My Mom and Dad, Brother, Sister, and I all live within about 30 minutes of each other, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I love my family (all sides of it...my mom's side, my dad's side, Kimberly's mom's and dad's sides). I am very grateful to be surrounded by the people I love, and I can only hope that it doesn't change as we all get older and have our own kids.

Enjoy your families and keep them close. If you didn't grow up in a family where a lot of love was present, I would encourage you to make that tradition your goal as you start your own family.