In a bit of change of pace, yet in keeping with the theme of my last post, I've decided to post something my sister wrote way back in high school.
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Memories
They've been here many times before, the old man and the little girl. She's two, maybe three, and is dressed in a frilly, lacy dress and has dainty hair ribbons in her pale blond hair. On her feet are tiny white boots, so grown up for such a little girl. The man grasps her tine hand in one of his large ones, with a touch so gentle, she looks up with eyes full of a child's love and trust. They talk together in her limited vocabulary. She's always learning. Sometimes she'll sing, or laugh or simply smile in delight, as she does when she sees a new flower, bird or tree.
They'll stop, as always, in an ice cream parlor. He'll place her on the counter and simply order her favorite, unable to resist her childish smile. They eat their ice cream and the continue on their way.
There is a certain bond between these two, a bond of love and trust. A bond of innocence and wisdom. An unnatural bond between grandfather and granddaughter.
They've been here many, many times before, he and that little girl that I used to be. They've walked continually through the gateways in my mind that we call memories. He's not with us now but yet... He still lives on. Without my memories, he would truly be gone.
- Alecia Clark (James at the time...)
23 August 2009
07 August 2009
I got an incredible gift tonight. Something I'm going to treasure. It's a simple gift, but it means a lot to me. They're nothing fancy but they're priceless to me. They are a pair of my grandpa's cuff links.
Dallas Hines was a great man from what I can remember. He was my Mom's dad and even so was very close to my Dad as well. (Whom he affectionately called 'meathead') He died from a heart attack when I was 6 so my memory is a bit fuzzy. I have a few distinct memories of him though - the first is sitting in his living room watching an episode of Star Trek, which is probably the reason I still enjoy the show today. Another is riding with him to the hospital to have my ankle x-rayed after I jumped off the merry-go-round at school. Of these 27+ year old memories my favorite is this: Riding with him in his brown ford pickup while going to the store to pick something up.
Grandpa dipped Skoal. Wintergreen Skoal. I love wintergreen and have since I was a kid. So on this day grandpa left me in the pickup with a bright shiny can of skoal sitting there while he ran into the hardware store. I, being 4 or 5 at the time, decided I was going to try that Skoal. It smelled so good when I opened the can - I can still remember it today. I remember getting a small pinch - the same way I'd watched Grandpa do it - and placed it into my mouth.
The immediate burning that immediately erupted on my lips and tongue when it touched them was excruciating. I remember spitting it out immediately and it splattering on the dash of the truck. I scraped as much of it off of my tongue as I could... At that point I noticed the black flecks peppering the dash of the truck.
Uh-oh.
So I wiped as much of it off as I could - if I recall correctly the floor of the truck was black rubber and surely he wouldn't notice... Did I mention I was 4 or 5? Ever seen a 4 or 5 year old clean a mess hastily? I don't remember how clean I got the dash but I do remember this: Grandpa never said a word and I still have zero desire to dip Skoal.
----
A few years ago I began a semi-permanent remodeling job in the basement of the house I own. Grandpa built this house for my grandmother and his family. While I was tearing down sheet rock I found a bunch of pay stubs, a speeding ticket (35 in a 25mph school zone), a receipt for 4 tires and various other stuff. My favorite find was a collection of Skoal cans in the bathroom wall. They still smelled of Wintergreen and brought back a faint memory of burning pain when I pulled them out. Apparently Grandpa hadn't quite quit when he told Grandma he had...
----
So fast forward to tonight. I'm wearing a new shirt that has french cuffs - the kind that require the use of cuff links. I'd borrowed a pair from some friends when Mom mentioned that she had a pair of Grandpa's and asked if I'd like them. I put them into my shirt and almost felt as close to him as I did the day he didn't say a thing about the explosive remains of my brief Skoal experiment.
Grandpa, I know you're watching over us and I'm looking forward to the day when we can hang out again. I hope I'm making you proud. I love you and I miss you.
----
When I get there don't let me try skoal again - no matter how great it smells.
MHJ
Dallas Hines was a great man from what I can remember. He was my Mom's dad and even so was very close to my Dad as well. (Whom he affectionately called 'meathead') He died from a heart attack when I was 6 so my memory is a bit fuzzy. I have a few distinct memories of him though - the first is sitting in his living room watching an episode of Star Trek, which is probably the reason I still enjoy the show today. Another is riding with him to the hospital to have my ankle x-rayed after I jumped off the merry-go-round at school. Of these 27+ year old memories my favorite is this: Riding with him in his brown ford pickup while going to the store to pick something up.
Grandpa dipped Skoal. Wintergreen Skoal. I love wintergreen and have since I was a kid. So on this day grandpa left me in the pickup with a bright shiny can of skoal sitting there while he ran into the hardware store. I, being 4 or 5 at the time, decided I was going to try that Skoal. It smelled so good when I opened the can - I can still remember it today. I remember getting a small pinch - the same way I'd watched Grandpa do it - and placed it into my mouth.
The immediate burning that immediately erupted on my lips and tongue when it touched them was excruciating. I remember spitting it out immediately and it splattering on the dash of the truck. I scraped as much of it off of my tongue as I could... At that point I noticed the black flecks peppering the dash of the truck.
Uh-oh.
So I wiped as much of it off as I could - if I recall correctly the floor of the truck was black rubber and surely he wouldn't notice... Did I mention I was 4 or 5? Ever seen a 4 or 5 year old clean a mess hastily? I don't remember how clean I got the dash but I do remember this: Grandpa never said a word and I still have zero desire to dip Skoal.
----
A few years ago I began a semi-permanent remodeling job in the basement of the house I own. Grandpa built this house for my grandmother and his family. While I was tearing down sheet rock I found a bunch of pay stubs, a speeding ticket (35 in a 25mph school zone), a receipt for 4 tires and various other stuff. My favorite find was a collection of Skoal cans in the bathroom wall. They still smelled of Wintergreen and brought back a faint memory of burning pain when I pulled them out. Apparently Grandpa hadn't quite quit when he told Grandma he had...
----
So fast forward to tonight. I'm wearing a new shirt that has french cuffs - the kind that require the use of cuff links. I'd borrowed a pair from some friends when Mom mentioned that she had a pair of Grandpa's and asked if I'd like them. I put them into my shirt and almost felt as close to him as I did the day he didn't say a thing about the explosive remains of my brief Skoal experiment.
Grandpa, I know you're watching over us and I'm looking forward to the day when we can hang out again. I hope I'm making you proud. I love you and I miss you.
----
When I get there don't let me try skoal again - no matter how great it smells.
MHJ
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