Memories of my Paw Paw

You learned to avoid pain around him, because you knew that any pain you were experiencing would be all the worse if he got ahold of you with some down south remedy.

Net fishing in Lillian Bay.

Paw Paw sucking down $3.39 worth of gas on Roy's boat because he was trying to get the motor started on Roy's boat as we were stuck under the bridge in Lillian Bay...we rowed back to shore.

Pioneer Cafeteria - I think he and Memaw kept that place in business for the last couple of years of it's existence. Speaking of restaurants, he could wear a restaurant out when he got turned on to it.

Paw Paw giving me a Swiss Army Knife. He and Memaw had gone on a vacation with us to the mountains, and knew how bad I wanted a knife, so he got me one for Christmas. He made it clear that it was him who got that present for me, not Memaw.

His old rickety silver and burgundy truck.

Trips to Elberta in the old white Buick Regal. It's funny how things come back on you. The three of us boys put a hurtin' on that car with gum, boogers, peeling off heating strips, etc. Guess who Paw Paw gave that car to when they turned 16. Jason.

Stabbing Paw Paw with a fish hook in his thumb as I ran away from a bee and tripped over the fishing line he was holding.

Knob scobbings...ouch!

Calling him Fat Freddy, and he never got tired of it.

The black socks...no matter what the attire.

Paw Paw shaving and walking around the house smelling like Dial soap and Old Spice.

Arriving at their house late at night after a long trip only to find Paw Paw sleeping. But getting so excited to run in and jump on him. He LOVED it!

Being taught that a reader is a leader.

Being given the opportunity at an early age to learn what a work ethic meant. I'm pretty sure it was illegal for us to be working in the shop...but that didn't stop anything.

Paw Paw always saw us as mature enough to be taught from the earliest age the deity of Christ and about creationism.

Paw Paw writing me letters teaching me about the importance of saving money, or that he was glad to see me, or that he reviewed a sermon I prepared and wanted to give me pointers.

Knowing that I could always call that special telephone number...1-800-578-7594...and always reach my Paw Paw.

Deep sea fishing and barfing.

Sniff sniff the lamb, and how he talked to us through the lamb.

Jumping in the leaves with Paw Paw. He truly was a big kid.

Paw Paw's red reading chair that I know has many boogers from certain grandchildren on it.

Stops at the Pig.

Parcheese

RC Cola and snickers.

Eating huge tomatoes with salt and pepper.

I remember telling Paw Paw one time that I wanted to be a missionary. He responded back with his great words of wisdom "Awww, you don't know what you want to do. You'll change your mind." In a way he was right. Paw Paw never withheld his thoughts. He was totally authentic and would let you know what he thought about any given situation.

In all of my life, I never figured out how to spell his name...the name I called him by. He was my Paw Paw...or is it PawPaw, Paw-Paw, Pawpaw, or Papaw?