Remembering My Grandfather

My maternal grandfather, Hubert
My maternal grandfather, Hubert, at my wedding in 1975


Last Monday, October 27th, would have been my granddad’s birthday.

He has been gone for a long time now, but I still miss him.

He was my only granddad as my paternal grandfather died in 1939 when Daddy was only 8 years old.

Granddaddy Hubert was a tenant farmer all his adult life.

He never really had much in the way of material possessions.

But to a kid, that didn’t matter at all.

He always had one of those “little” Cokes in the old fridge on the back porch for us

and slipped us a quarter whenever we visited.

That was a fortune to us!!

Grandmama died young, at 62, and our family sacrificed to move in with

Granddaddy for about a year.

With crops in the field, he just simply needed to stay

and he couldn’t do it alone.

This was extremely hard on Mama.

Just one day after the funeral, we moved into her mother’s house;

the house where her mom had died in her arms from an unexpected massive heart attack.

As hard as all this was for Mama and Daddy,

it was a great adventure for me.

I was 8 years old.  My sister was only 3.

Living in a 2 story house was so cool!

Debbie and I shared the room upstairs over Granddaddy’s room.

This gave us a little heat that worked its way through the floor boards

from the space heater in his den/bedroom.

That, and the feather bed that all but buried us, kept us nice and toasty.

I loved living on a farm.

We had chickens and pigs and corn and tobacco.

The dirt driveway was long and perfect for bike riding.

I experienced hog killings and corn pickings and tobacco harvesting.

I still remember the smell of the hams hanging in the smoke house to dry.

Such good eating!!

I ate organic chicken when it wasn’t all the rage.

It was definitely fresh!

Mama would wring or chop off its neck and it would still run around!

Thus, the saying “like a chicken with its head cut off!”

I wasn’t a city girl before this, but we did live in a subdivision with lots of other folks.

Our tiny little house was built new for my parents with some modern

conveniences, like an indoor bathroom.

Granddaddy’s house – no conveniences.


That’s right.

We had an outhouse!!!!!!

Baths were “bird baths” during the week,

and if warm enough, in a big metal tub in the back yard on Saturday.

Hey, I was little so it was just fine with me.

The best part of that year was the time Debbie and I had with our granddaddy.

Those were times we would not have had if we hadn’t lived there.

To me, those are precious times I will always cherish.

Years later, Granddaddy lived with Mama and Daddy 2 or 3 different times.

God used those situations to help Mama find healing in her relationship with her dad.

She carried many hurts from her childhood into her adult life.

Granddaddy was so different with Debbie and I that it was always hard for me

to understand the pain she had experienced.

Near the end of his life, his memory faded,

and when he didn’t remember most of his family,

he still remembered me as “my Sharon.”

Oh, how I treasure the memories of my granddaddy!

I am saddened that Les isn’t here to be the Pop he so wanted to be with Lesley and Timothy.

But God’s ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts.

Just as I keep my granddaddy alive with my stories,

we will keep Les alive for them.

And I will strive to give them “grandmama memories” that will last their lifetime.

If you still have your grandparents,

why not give them a call or a visit?

It will be a blessing to them and to you.

And add to the memories for you to cherish.

Lots of love, Sharon

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