It's January 2, 2009. Today would have been my Pop's 88th birthday. My life is blessed to have him as my grandfather. It's hard to believe that we lost him just shy of 8 years ago.
He didn't always have an easy life. His mother sent him and his two older brothers to a boys' home when he was three. She was dying of tuberculosis. He and his oldest brother were fostered out to two different families in Western KY. He didn't meet his other brother again until he was 23 years old. He had a 4th grade education, but understood hard work. He married my grandmother. He served in WWII. He raised five children and 8 grandchildren. We all loved to go to see him.
I think of him so often. How he thought the best of people. Given his upbringing, he could have been bitter. He could have lost all trust in the human race. He chose to value his God and his family. He taught his sons and daughters that...and we, his granddaughters and grandsons learned as well.
I often wonder how my sweet dad must have felt in the days, weeks, months and years that followed Pop's death. I know dad thought of him often and did what he knew Pop would want him to do...take care of Grandma (his mom.) How he must have missed Pop. I find myself struggling with my loss of him just over a year now. I miss him terribly.
How thankful I am for my Pop. Today on his birthday, I remember. I remember the countless times he sang a hymn as he piddled around his house. I remember the times he smiled and called me his little doll. I remember his warmth and smile. I remember how he loved his family. I remember how he loved my grandma, his Anna Faye. I remember him praying in church and around the dinner table. I count myself blessed. My life is richer and forever marked by this precious man who was orphaned at 3 years old. I'd say he pressed on despite his circumstances and became the example of a godly dad and granddad for all of us.
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