Thirty-one years ago, my paternal grandfather passed away. We called him Paw Paw and my dad loved him very much.
Paw Paw loved to listen to his “45” of Tennessee Ernie Ford on his console record player and walk through the house singing at the top of his lungs. He had a lava lamp on top of the TV and an old fashioned cuckoo clock on the wall. Even with thick coke-bottle glasses he still had to use a magnifying glass to read his Bible, which he did the first thing every morning and the last thing every night. He loved Jesus with all of his heart. In church he would “amen” after almost every sentence.
Paw Paw died suddenly from a massive heart attack while at work. He was 80 years old. I remember my dad hugging me and saying, “I hope I can make it without him. I talked to him so often. I already miss him …” read more