What if it Snows?

These people don't watch movies.........

 

My grip is still good enough to imprint the spoon into the corrugations once the pin is out...

 

Me Next!

 

@Cattlemen84 Finally got mine to copy. Stuck it here.

 

Thus past weekend my family held the memorial service for my Grandpa. Due to scheduling issues not all the family was able to makebit to the burial we had on the 4th, so the memorial service was postponed.

The service was short, as he wanted it. My uncle gave the life sketch, Grandpa's violin instructor played a musical piece, and then the grandchildren were each given the opportunity to share a memory. As the eldest grandchild I went first, the following is what I shared....



I was fortunate enough to live within close proximity of Grandpa my entire life, and I spent several summers living with him and Grandma during my youth. Over the last few weeks, I've spent a great amount of time inside the memory vault of my mind labeled Grandpa. With thousands upon thousands of memories, one would think it would be easy to pick one to share. But many of the film reels have begun to deteriorate, becoming faded and splotchy. Not to mention the vault projector lenses that keep gathering moisture.

However, there is something that comes through clear, peppered throughout them all... Grandpa's unique turns of phrase; many of which I have, over the years, unconsciously adopted into my own daily conversations.

If one were to ask, "Reed, how ya doing?" He very well may have responded, "I'm about as fine as frog hair." Or he may have said, "Another day another dollar, but I'll have to wait for the tax man to tell me if it’s in the red or the black."

If you were struggling with something that required a little brute force, he might have advised you to "Put your #10 into it," meaning to use your foot or kick it.

When Grandpa was feeling a little under the weather and someone asked what ailed him, he often would reply, "The creeping crud, that already crept."

The night immediately following Grandpa's passing, I fell asleep deep, deep within my memory vault having left the sound board on. I awoke early the next morning, unable to sleep, with his voice echoing these and many other phrases through the otherwise silent corridors of my mind. Seeking peace I sat outside alone, watching the sunrise. I’d like to end by sharing the words I wrote in that moment.

Today the sun rises on a world unfamiliar to me, a world without the man who's name my youngest son carries, a man who touched the lives of so many, a man who outgrew this world, the man I proudly called Grandpa. Although my soul rejoices that he no longer suffers the trials of this mortal life, my heart aches with the loss of his presence.

God's Speed, Grandpa. Hug Grandma for me when you see her. I will see you both again someday.

 

Outstanding Cattleman