Granddaddy

This picture was taken only a few months ago.

Today, he is not G'diddy. He is Daddy to my wife and me. He is Granddaddy to my son, and to all of my son's friends.

He came to the world in 1910 in Richmond, VA. He lived every moment with a smile, a laugh, and the belief in the goodness of everyone. He would call you out, but in a way that made you know he was not sitting in judgment. He was just trying to keep the party rolling. He let you know what he believed, but made you feel welcome, whatever you may believe.

He was a man of simple needs. He loved the Atlanta Braves, but it didn't really matter what game was on. Any game is worth watching. He was frugal. He was generous. He was a friend to all ages. As a widower, he was chased by the ladies, but faithful to the end to his beloved wife, who left us ten years ago. He was a clown with the little ones, a companion to my generation, and an inspiration to his peers.

He had one daughter when he was 49, and one grandson when he was 90. There was so much before that, and so much else; but they were everything to him, and he wanted everyone in every room to meet them.

He would push the limits, but never break them. We would go to the grocery store together. More than once, he cornered an employee who was stocking shelves or loading the frozen food cases to ask, "Hey, how can I get a nice high paying job like yours?" He always got a laugh. I was always waiting for someone to take a swing at him.

There are so many stories. A week ago, before we knew all the facts, his nurse asked him the standard questions: his name, our names, day of the week, etc. She asked, do you know where you are? He replied, "Yes, I'm in the Roanoke Hospital for the Incurable!"

We all laughed, wanted to cry a little, and the nurse said, "Yeah, that's OK, I'll take that."

In the end, he was right. He left us about 22 hours ago. Things won't ever be the same here on Jefferson Street.

We love you Granddaddy.