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?
Sunday, April 20, 2008
A Few of my favorite things..
Here are a few of my favorite things about PawPaw:
- sitting across from him in Denny's, waiting for him to pour creamer into his coffee so he could empty the creamer cup and then fill it with coffee for us.
- his appreciation for PaPa Johns, which nearly rivals mine
- he was a fierce Parcheese competitor and even though I am pretty sure I never beat him, he always let me argue that I was the Parcheese champ!
- Sniff Sniff's evening visits
- the meals at the Mexican Restaurant (he loved that cheese dip and I can't think of a time he didn't spill it on his shirt or have it dripping from his chin at some point during the meal)
- "Tradition"
- No ONE, I mean NO ONE, can make grits like PawPaw.
- The fish he fried was the only kind of fish I have ever enjoyed.
- The banging of the pulpit when he preached
- The ENORMOUS pile of leaves he would gather for us to jump in (he must have let leaves accumulate for months at a time and I can't even imagine how long it took him to rake) He didn't just watch us from the sidelines, he was in those leaves with us, tossing us around and laughing as we tried to come up from the pile to find air (sometimes, I really wondered if it was possible to drown in a pile of leaves
The Man Speech
One of the strongest points of influence that Papaw had in my life was the man speech. I'd like to tell you it was only once. The truth is it was more like 15 times. All the man speeches that I remember took place at the old shop, on hwy 75.
The old shop. It was about an acre and a half of building, a few pine trees, at least a dozen monstrous ant hills, and grass. No not the tame grass that lives in my front yard. according to my memory that grass was burly, stubborn, and out of control. I remember it being tall. Often up to my knees.
I don't remember my exact age, but I think I was around 10 when Papaw started hiring me to cut the grass at the old shop.
To his credit: He payed me way more than I was worth, he bought me sunkist orange sodas when I took breaks, he did come out and check on me to make sure I was ok, he would take a turn pushing the lawnmower while I rested, and he often bought me lunch
In my defense: He made me cut an acre's worth of grass with a push mower (not self-propelled), the lawn mower NEVER cranked on the first try and usually not until the sixty-fourth try, it was Alabama summer a.k.a. 'a glimpse of how hot hell is', it took me well over 2 hours sometimes 3.
I would usually start cutting grass between 8 and 9 in the morning. The grass would be wet, so before I could get 2 rows cut, the lower half of my body would be darn near soaked. In the Alabama heat, it would only be a few more rows before the upper body was soaked with sweat. So it was kinda like cutting grass after you got out of a swimming pool. The grass was so tall that it perfectly hid the ant hills. Literally, I would be pushing that lawn mower, grunting along, and instantly feel a dozen ants doing their best to kill me. What angered me was that I knew it was going to happen again in the next 20 minutes. It was just part of it. The lawn mower was a piece of...well, you get my drift. I can remember broken wheels, a wounded engine, and at the end of its life the handle bar was rusted through on the right side. But that blade was sharp enough to shave with. Before I would start, Papaw would take the blade off, and grind that bad boy into a weapon. He would grind until the metal was fresh and shiny and sharp. Then he would touch the blade to see if it was done. Very similar to a chef taking a tiny taste the sauce to see if its ready. As soon as his finger touched the blade, he'd yank his hand back as if he'd been electrocuted. Not only was the blade sharp, it was hot. No man could hold a lawn mower blade on the grinder for as long as Papaw.
So I would cut the grass in small sections. It made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Papaw didn't like that. He said it took longer to finish. I never understood his logic, and he never took the time to explain.
Inevitably I would get overwhelmed, worn out, whiney, and totally frustrated. I'd take my stinky, sweaty body into his office and interrupt the article he was writing. He'd push back from that old typewriter, spin his chair around and look at me. It wasn't the same warm smile I had seen earlier that morning. It was the look of a freight train coming down the tracks. I knew what was coming and I didn't like what I saw. Honestly, it was no more enjoyable than being out there cutting grass. But at least it was air conditioned. Then Papaw would give me the man speech.
I wish I could remember the details of the man speech. Who knows, maybe it changed each time he gave it. But I know there was a common rhythm. Don't complain about your obstacles. Don't be weak. Don't focus on the difficulty. Push yourself. Focus on the finish line. Kick your own ass, so you can get out there and kick your problem's ass. You have to make a decision, a commitment in your mind; that's where you win this battle. Life is hard, you have to be harder. Size up your problems, break it down to manageable battles, and go fight like a wild man. Do you think this problem is going to go away if you walk away? It will show up somewhere else. You have to go ahead and kill it now. You will feel totally fulfilled if you beat this thing. You can't live life only if you feel good. You'll never get out of bed, if you wait for that. You have to choose a good attitude. You have to choose to be strong. You have to choose victory. And you have to be willing to pay the price of those choices. Its not totally about the prize or reward. Its also about your duty, your responsibility. Somethings you have to do because others are counting on you. Toughen up. Tighten up. You need to learn to be strong in this situation. That is going to come when you learn to be strong on the inside.
I don't remember the exact words of what he said in his office. I do remember how he looked. Fierce. Strong. Focused. Inspiring. Scary. Convicting. I never felt good when the speech was over. I never felt warm and fuzzy, hopeful, passionate, comfortable.
After the speech, Papaw would walk me to the soda machine, put in the money, and wait for me to push the orange button. Then he'd walk me back to my lawnmower and stand there until I cranked it. Then he'd go back inside to his office and wait for the next visit. For all I know he'd start writing/rehearsing the next man speech.
Thank God, Thank God that I slacked enough to get that speech so often that it burned into my heart. And hopefully I have embraced a fraction of what he taught me.
The old shop. It was about an acre and a half of building, a few pine trees, at least a dozen monstrous ant hills, and grass. No not the tame grass that lives in my front yard. according to my memory that grass was burly, stubborn, and out of control. I remember it being tall. Often up to my knees.
I don't remember my exact age, but I think I was around 10 when Papaw started hiring me to cut the grass at the old shop.
To his credit: He payed me way more than I was worth, he bought me sunkist orange sodas when I took breaks, he did come out and check on me to make sure I was ok, he would take a turn pushing the lawnmower while I rested, and he often bought me lunch
In my defense: He made me cut an acre's worth of grass with a push mower (not self-propelled), the lawn mower NEVER cranked on the first try and usually not until the sixty-fourth try, it was Alabama summer a.k.a. 'a glimpse of how hot hell is', it took me well over 2 hours sometimes 3.
I would usually start cutting grass between 8 and 9 in the morning. The grass would be wet, so before I could get 2 rows cut, the lower half of my body would be darn near soaked. In the Alabama heat, it would only be a few more rows before the upper body was soaked with sweat. So it was kinda like cutting grass after you got out of a swimming pool. The grass was so tall that it perfectly hid the ant hills. Literally, I would be pushing that lawn mower, grunting along, and instantly feel a dozen ants doing their best to kill me. What angered me was that I knew it was going to happen again in the next 20 minutes. It was just part of it. The lawn mower was a piece of...well, you get my drift. I can remember broken wheels, a wounded engine, and at the end of its life the handle bar was rusted through on the right side. But that blade was sharp enough to shave with. Before I would start, Papaw would take the blade off, and grind that bad boy into a weapon. He would grind until the metal was fresh and shiny and sharp. Then he would touch the blade to see if it was done. Very similar to a chef taking a tiny taste the sauce to see if its ready. As soon as his finger touched the blade, he'd yank his hand back as if he'd been electrocuted. Not only was the blade sharp, it was hot. No man could hold a lawn mower blade on the grinder for as long as Papaw.
So I would cut the grass in small sections. It made me feel like I was accomplishing something. Papaw didn't like that. He said it took longer to finish. I never understood his logic, and he never took the time to explain.
Inevitably I would get overwhelmed, worn out, whiney, and totally frustrated. I'd take my stinky, sweaty body into his office and interrupt the article he was writing. He'd push back from that old typewriter, spin his chair around and look at me. It wasn't the same warm smile I had seen earlier that morning. It was the look of a freight train coming down the tracks. I knew what was coming and I didn't like what I saw. Honestly, it was no more enjoyable than being out there cutting grass. But at least it was air conditioned. Then Papaw would give me the man speech.
I wish I could remember the details of the man speech. Who knows, maybe it changed each time he gave it. But I know there was a common rhythm. Don't complain about your obstacles. Don't be weak. Don't focus on the difficulty. Push yourself. Focus on the finish line. Kick your own ass, so you can get out there and kick your problem's ass. You have to make a decision, a commitment in your mind; that's where you win this battle. Life is hard, you have to be harder. Size up your problems, break it down to manageable battles, and go fight like a wild man. Do you think this problem is going to go away if you walk away? It will show up somewhere else. You have to go ahead and kill it now. You will feel totally fulfilled if you beat this thing. You can't live life only if you feel good. You'll never get out of bed, if you wait for that. You have to choose a good attitude. You have to choose to be strong. You have to choose victory. And you have to be willing to pay the price of those choices. Its not totally about the prize or reward. Its also about your duty, your responsibility. Somethings you have to do because others are counting on you. Toughen up. Tighten up. You need to learn to be strong in this situation. That is going to come when you learn to be strong on the inside.
I don't remember the exact words of what he said in his office. I do remember how he looked. Fierce. Strong. Focused. Inspiring. Scary. Convicting. I never felt good when the speech was over. I never felt warm and fuzzy, hopeful, passionate, comfortable.
After the speech, Papaw would walk me to the soda machine, put in the money, and wait for me to push the orange button. Then he'd walk me back to my lawnmower and stand there until I cranked it. Then he'd go back inside to his office and wait for the next visit. For all I know he'd start writing/rehearsing the next man speech.
Thank God, Thank God that I slacked enough to get that speech so often that it burned into my heart. And hopefully I have embraced a fraction of what he taught me.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Thank you...
Plans change so quickly don't they? It's moments like these where Heaven invades our earth. Where eternity challenges our fleeting reality. I was supposed to speak at a church this Sunday, and on Thursday, God prompted a change to those plans. I began to think about Paw Paw's sickness, and I knew that if anything happened to him, I would regret not sharing some final words with him. I would never regret missing the opportunity to speak to strangers...but I would certainly regret getting one last chance to speak to the man I have loved all of my life. A hero in my journey.
So I praise God that on Friday, I was able to have a few moments alone with that hero. He watched me as I began to fumble through the expressions of my heart. As I searched for words, what kept coming forth was simply "thank you." Thank you for loving each of us in our own special way. Thank you for giving us tradition. Thank you for giving us each other. Thank you for giving us laughter. Thank you for all you taught us. Thank you for memories we will take into eternity. Thank you for giving us a heritage to be proud of. Thank you for giving us opportunities. Thank you for giving us provisions. Thank you for your time. Thank you for giving us a passion for life. Thank you for teaching me that a reader is a leader. Thank you for teaching me about investing. Thank you for your many, many hugs. Thank you for your back slaps. Thank you for scobbing our knobs. Thank you for taking us fishing. Thank you for taking us exploring. Thank you for the fun trips to Elberta in that little white Regal. Thank you for showing me that I should never put my mouth on an exhaust pipe. Thank you for my Swiss Army Knife. Thank you for rides in the back of that rickety old truck. Thank you for playing in the leaves with us. Thank you for your letters. Thank you for the joy you showed when 3 little kids would run and jump on your bed at midnight because they couldn't wait until the morning to see you. There is so much more to say thank you for, but simply put, thank you for giving us life.
Jesus, would you just tell my Paw Paw right now how much I love him? Show him just a glimpse of the glory You are getting because of a life well lived.
So I praise God that on Friday, I was able to have a few moments alone with that hero. He watched me as I began to fumble through the expressions of my heart. As I searched for words, what kept coming forth was simply "thank you." Thank you for loving each of us in our own special way. Thank you for giving us tradition. Thank you for giving us each other. Thank you for giving us laughter. Thank you for all you taught us. Thank you for memories we will take into eternity. Thank you for giving us a heritage to be proud of. Thank you for giving us opportunities. Thank you for giving us provisions. Thank you for your time. Thank you for giving us a passion for life. Thank you for teaching me that a reader is a leader. Thank you for teaching me about investing. Thank you for your many, many hugs. Thank you for your back slaps. Thank you for scobbing our knobs. Thank you for taking us fishing. Thank you for taking us exploring. Thank you for the fun trips to Elberta in that little white Regal. Thank you for showing me that I should never put my mouth on an exhaust pipe. Thank you for my Swiss Army Knife. Thank you for rides in the back of that rickety old truck. Thank you for playing in the leaves with us. Thank you for your letters. Thank you for the joy you showed when 3 little kids would run and jump on your bed at midnight because they couldn't wait until the morning to see you. There is so much more to say thank you for, but simply put, thank you for giving us life.
Jesus, would you just tell my Paw Paw right now how much I love him? Show him just a glimpse of the glory You are getting because of a life well lived.
Finally Home
I know it isn't much, and it definitely isn't the best, but I hope you guys enjoy/appreciate/think it does him justice.
"Finally Home"
What can one say,
About a man such as you?
Your actions have left
An echoing ripple on the waters of eternity.
You always showed kindness,
Being generous where needed.
Always willing to lend a helping hand,
And showing your love through discipline.
Now you are resting,
Secure in our Savior's arms.
Dancing with your family,
And sharing in the wealth.
A hearty cheer from me to you,
A healthy back-slapping hug,
A loving smile, and a silent tear.
I'm glad you are finally home.
"Finally Home"
What can one say,
About a man such as you?
Your actions have left
An echoing ripple on the waters of eternity.
You always showed kindness,
Being generous where needed.
Always willing to lend a helping hand,
And showing your love through discipline.
Now you are resting,
Secure in our Savior's arms.
Dancing with your family,
And sharing in the wealth.
A hearty cheer from me to you,
A healthy back-slapping hug,
A loving smile, and a silent tear.
I'm glad you are finally home.
Like He Lived
This morning, approximately a few minutes past 8, Ralph heard Fathers voice one more time. We all rejoiced that he was now free of all that was robbing him of being fully alive. We all choose to remember him fully alive...eyes wide open. Wide open to bless us so generously. Wide open to see and make opportunities to invest in the grandkids. Wide open to follow His unique calling and consuming passion- crafting words into stories of truth and the gospel that criss-crossed North America. Wide open in finding unconventional ways to make presses run when they didn't want to.
He died the way He lived; eyes wide open. With a chair pulled up next to PawPaw's bed and reading some scriptures about heaven, Kinsey and MeMaw arrived around 7:40 a.m. to relieve me. After saying good morning and telling PawPaw they loved him, Kinsey asked me if I wanted a little more private time. "Yeah, I think so." She and MeMaw had grabbed a couple of breakfast biscuits and slipped into the hallway to eat them while I was able to say to PawPaw, "Go, go home Ralph. Go to your Lord and rest." (Friday night/Saturday morning was a struggle for him and like many of us, I was so aggitated over having to see him continue to suffer). So many of us have been asking God to bring PawPaw home. Well, he opens his eyes and then make the extra effort to stretch them wider. I tell him want I want have to say and ask him to wait while I get Kinsey and MeMaw into the room. They get a few brief moments with him, eyes wide open. Just then hospice calls MeMaw to finalize the details for moving PawPaw back home but the time has come. The culmination of a life well lived, expressed in passion-commitment-loyalty. A life lived out loud and with eyes wide open. Good for you buddy, you know what we can only imagine. I love you all day and all night long.
He died the way He lived; eyes wide open. With a chair pulled up next to PawPaw's bed and reading some scriptures about heaven, Kinsey and MeMaw arrived around 7:40 a.m. to relieve me. After saying good morning and telling PawPaw they loved him, Kinsey asked me if I wanted a little more private time. "Yeah, I think so." She and MeMaw had grabbed a couple of breakfast biscuits and slipped into the hallway to eat them while I was able to say to PawPaw, "Go, go home Ralph. Go to your Lord and rest." (Friday night/Saturday morning was a struggle for him and like many of us, I was so aggitated over having to see him continue to suffer). So many of us have been asking God to bring PawPaw home. Well, he opens his eyes and then make the extra effort to stretch them wider. I tell him want I want have to say and ask him to wait while I get Kinsey and MeMaw into the room. They get a few brief moments with him, eyes wide open. Just then hospice calls MeMaw to finalize the details for moving PawPaw back home but the time has come. The culmination of a life well lived, expressed in passion-commitment-loyalty. A life lived out loud and with eyes wide open. Good for you buddy, you know what we can only imagine. I love you all day and all night long.
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