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My Grandpa on my dad’s side was big and tall.
Before he retired, he had been a wood cutter
and he still boasted large muscles and broad shoulders.
Grandpa loved to read the wild western novels, and he named
his 12 children after some of the characters in the stories. When I knew him, he still read those books
and magazines about the cowboys, Indians, and cattle rustlers.
Grandpa liked lots of air when he slept, so on their screened in back porch they set up his and Grandma's bed. I remember taking my nap time there.
Winkie was the name of his big orange cat that always climbed
onto his shoulders. Grandpa would not
allow me to pet his cat, because Winkie only loved Grandpa; and would hiss and
try to scratch anyone who came too close.
My Grandparents had lived in Tennessee when most of their 12 children
were born.
Some time later they decided
to move to California
where my Uncle Jim had purchased a tidy house in town for them to live in. My dad
and his youngest sisters lived there too and finished high school
When Grandma lived in Tennessee ,
she dipped snuff, but when she realized the ladies in California did not do such things, she quit
and that was that.
Someone once said to BREAK a bad habit, just
DROP it.
My Grandpa chewed tobacco and spit into a coffee can, and he
was not about to give up his good ol’ chew.
Honestly to me it was disgusting as the juice would sometimes
roll down his chin.
Grandpa would use the tobacco juice for cuts, and once he
put some on me when I was stung by a bee.
One time on a visit to my grandparents, grandpa asked me to
walk with him to town. Not owning a car,
he put on his straw hat, and we walked to the store where he would carry back
the groceries in large paper bags.
On this day, he had me select small pints of ice cream so
everyone could have a special treat that afternoon. He even let me carry the ice cream home.
One thing about my Grandpa was that he loved me, and he had a heart of Gold.
I don’t know how Jesus felt about Grandpa’s chewing tobacco,
but I can only hope Jesus was looking at Grandpa’s heart.
4 comments:
How blessed to have such wonderful memories. My guess is that God indeed looks at the heart and not so much at the things that in the end don't add up to much. Great story.
I had to chuckle a bit when Floyd's post and yours had a lot in common.
And the final bit of both of them was, basically, that, no matter re: our habits we can still be accepted by the Lord, b/c He knows we love Him, serve Him. He's the only perfect One.
Glad your grandpa was a blessing to you. That's a good thing!
What wonderful memories of your Grandfather. Man looks at the outside, God looks at the heart. Your Grandfather had a beautiful heart.
I have a cat that behaves like Winkie. He likes to sit close to me and hisses if anyone comes too close.Your grandparents must have enjoyed your visits. You were given the special job of carrying the ice cream. :)
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