Skip to comments.A hymn and a tribute to my Grandfather. This was his favorite...
Posted on 10/12/2010 9:07:53 PM PDT by Winstons Julia
My grandpa Johnson was the best. He was not a large man in stature.
He was a gentle man.
He taught me how to shoot the bee bee gun at the snapping turtle noses when the turtles were eating his bait. At his retirement home in Arkansas,
He was a regular worker. A pattern maker.
He was a super duper handy man.
He was a man of God and a modest one.
I don't know why he came to my mind today...but he did.
He had a wicked sense of humor. During his last days he lived in my parents' house in Maryland. He liked tea...and drank Salada tea...and the tea tags had sayings on them.
Often when we had dinner together, after I moved from my parents' house...we would read our tea tags together. We would decide whose tea-tag saying was better...because I drank tea with him.
Even though I had moved out of may parent's home....later...my place at the table was in front of the window.
After my grandfather had his stroke...when we knew it was very bad and terminal I was at my parents' house and I was sitting at my place at the table by the window...I had moved away quite awhile before.
I happened to notice that the placemat was sliding...and I lifted up the placemat...see...the placemats were ALWAYS there.
The night that we knew Grandpa was going to die...I lifted up the placemat....
And underneath my placemat...there were easily 50 Salada tea tags.
He was in the hospital dying and he had put easily...50 teabags under my placemat.
What an amazing man and an amazing joker...that could punk you....even though he was being taken by God.
He's not to be forgotten...that one.
Oh crap...that made me cry.
As I said...I don’t know why my mom’s dad is on my mind.
Since he died...I have lost both my father and my mother.
He had suffered macular degeneration AND depression when my grandparents...my mom’s parents moved in with us when I was much younger.
They couldn’t keep their house in Arkansas (the great escape of my childhood...I would sit on the dock fishing for bluegills from morning till night...
and you know...eventually...when I got old enough...Grandpa made me clean my own fish!
I had to put them on the board...nail through the eyes...and scale them and then flip them over and scale them...and then cut them down the middle and gut them.....
anyway...later in life my Grandfather got sad....
He did BUCK UP at mom and dad’s house while I was there....and they celebrated their 60’th...
And then...he just had the stroke...and then he had another stroke....
He remained defiant until he was in his own bed there at mom and dad’s....
And then he had a bigger stroke....
He died 6 days later...
And I think it was about THEN that I found all those tea tags......
But I was a girl and
Ignore the last line...
What I meant to say was “I was a girl and...I didn’t want to clean the fish...but he didn’t let me get away with it...”
Many remarkable people have walked this earth, and your grandfather was one of them.
Thanks for sharing your story with the rest of us.
Thank you for sharing a little bit of your grandpa with us.
As I said...he was a little man.
He really was small. But...he is great in my mind. He was a fantastic wit.
When we went to Arkansas...we all had to stand up in church because Chet and Lucille’s family was there!
And the church family was terrific.
I don’t think they missed a happy hour!
And we kids got a LOT of attention.
Oh my goodness...the photos I have.
You’ll see him again.
He’s with me sometimes. His spirit, anyway...
Every kid should have a grandfather like yours. Thanks for the stories, they made me smile. :)
“In the Garden” was my maternal grandmother’s favorite gospel song. It was played at her funeral after she was killed in an automobile accident in 1953, and it remains one of my mother’s favorites as well.
I also remember him telling me that when the blue-jays attacked the feeder...I should bee bee gun the blue jays.
I was questioning because blue jays are pretty...he said, “Hit em on the upper tail...those bird are pretty...but they are awful mean....”
A very sweet story that reads as if we were all there.Thank you for posting.
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