February 7, 2012

The Colonel...not the KFC one!

Mother, if you're reading this....STOP!  It will probably make you cry.  I tried to quit doing that around 28.  I wasn't always successful, but I tried.

There are people who live many miles from their grandparents, but I am not one of those.  I grew up within 1-2 miles of both sets of my grandparents, and my grandmother still lives across the hill from us. They doted on me and gave me way too much attention.  And I adored them. 

Papaw and I, Sophomore Year of High School
Please note my stellar hair and ginormous earrings.

This handsome man is my Papaw, aka the Colonel.  I know I've been told the story of how he got that nickname, but I've long forgotten...I just know he was my heart and soul.  My other grandfather, Grandpa, was equally as special; He taught me important things like how to play poker for starlight mints and how to use cuss words in context. These are important skills when you're ten.

My Papaw wasn't a talker.   He was always quiet, studying on things.  I can't recall him ever telling me he loved me, but he didn't have to.  I knew.  I still know. 

When he passed many, many years ago, the only thing I asked for from my grandmother was his wedding band.  She happily gave it to me, along with his driver's license.  That was shortly before I said, "I do" the first time.

My dream at that time was to give this man I was marrying the ring my grandfather had worn for 50+ years.  It represented what I wanted so badly...a union for eternity.  But my gut kept me from doing that.  So, I kept it tucked away with a few pieces of jewelry I had.  

Many years later, while moving, I realized the ring was missing.  I suspected it had been stolen by one of the ex's friends (I use the word friend loosely, obviously).  My stomach ached and my heart broke. 

Over the years, which numbered over a decade, I often thought of the ring and where it ended up.  I was too ashamed to tell my mother that I thought it had been stolen.  So I kept quiet.

This past Sunday, my parents stopped by, which is quite common.  My father came in holding my deceased Nana's purse and her watch.  He told me he had kept these, but wanted to make sure I got them.  Then, out of the blue, my mother hands me my Papaw's wedding band and driver's license.  There, after so much worry, was the shiniest, most beautiful gold band.  Turns out, I had given it to her during a move so she could keep it safe.  And she did for all those years.

Tonight I got out his driver's license just to look at his handwriting...After Eden's Meme, handwriting is much more interesting.  What was really interesting was what I found hidden in his driver's license...a $2 bill.  My grandmother, his wife, was always giving $2 to people as "good luck" when I was a kid.  I have two tucked away in my billfold, one is mine from high school and the other is Girlo Two's.  Her motto was you might need some money one day and not have any.  What the hell I was supposed to buy with $2 I have yet to figure out.  Granted there were still payphones when I was a teenager, but they sure didn't take $2 bills.  Apparently she'd slit his license open and tucked one in between.  

I had a man who reads auras once tell me he could see my Papaw behind my right shoulder, and I have no doubt he is there on a regular basis.  Life has been hectic lately, and I'm trying to discern where it is taking me.  Wherever it is, I have a lucky $2 to get me there compliments of my dear, sweet Papaw.

1 comment:

  1. Even though it was a long time ago, I remember your papaw as being a sweet, kind, and yes, quiet man. Your grandmother (Maude) has always been a sweet lady, too. Growing up, I remember her beautiful, silver hair--every hair in its place.