I was so torn when my parents divorced. All of my life they had a rocky relationship, and mom never seemed happy. During their divorce, my mom started a relationship with this man. He was so tall, and seemed so gruff to most folks, but as I grew up living with them, I come to know him as a big teddy bear. We rarely had words, and when we did..they were few and far between. He seemed to understand me, and drew me out of my withdrawn sense into reality. He encouraged me, and although wasn't home a whole lot (he drove a over the road long haul truck), we built a relationship that some cannot understand. We didn't have a drop of blood in common, but he I grew to love him, not only as a friend, but a father figure. I remember all too well my stepsister coming to visit and this big ole guy sitting in the floor while we put "curlers" in his hair.
In the summers, I used to go out on the road with my mom and him occasionally, before the laws got too strict, and got to see other parts of the country that I probably never would have seen any other way. There was never a dull moment. We were constantly up to something, and usually plotting on mom in some funny way.
This man that drifted into my life at that tender time, also was one of the best grandfathers any kid could have. He made a point to be here for every occasion he could be. He always dropped what he was doing and came running, full force. When Breanna and Samuel were about to be born, I called and told him I was scheduled for a C-Section, and they came off the road and came up to help me out however they could. He was standing outside the OR doors when they were born, and waited for me to come out of surgery before he would leave the area to even eat. This was a task all of it's own, he was a diabetic. His big heart was amazing. I never thought I would see tears in his eyes, he wasn't one to show that side of his emotions very often...but when he laid eyes on my little girl, this big ole truck driver broke down in tears, and he would just hold her hand or foot or stroke his big finger across her cheek. He was scared to pick her up, that he would hurt her...she was 5.4 pounds at birth.
These two especially, had a bond that was unbelievable. From the time she was big enough to walk/talk, she or if he thought it had been too long since he had talked to her last...would constantly be on the phone, thank heavens for Cingular's (now AT&T) roll over minutes, and large minute plans. He constantly showered them with kindness, love, laughter, and as most grandparents do spoiling their grandchildren...gifts. I was so glad they got to meet him and I hope that they will remember him always.
I was a good kid growing up, and he usually took my side, when mom wouldn't agree with me. Being an only child, mom tended to be overprotective of me. When I wanted to start dating, she didn't want me to....and he finally told me..."You go ahead and go out, I will handle your mom." I did some things kids probably shouldn't do along the way, but nothing to ever get me in trouble, that I couldn't get out of anyhow.
He wasn't the gushy "I love you" kind of guy, but he did little things, and picked/teased the ones he loved..that was just the way he was. I loved his warped sense of humor. But if I ever needed anything, you can bet at the drop of a hat...come hell or high water he was going to be there. I remember well December 15, 2001 the day my water broke with the boys two months early. We were all scared out of our minds, and I picked up the phone and called him and told them (my mom joined him on the road after I left home.) what was happening. Without hesitation he said he would be there as quick as he could, mind you they were in California and me on the Virginia coast at the time. He, not my mom, called the dispatcher and told them he was coming home...to get him a load or he was going to deadhead home without a load. I went into labor on Saturday evening, Sunday morning they were set to deliver their load...they dropped the load and another driver in the area picked it up and took it to it's destination. They picked up an empty trailer that needed to come back to TN (home for them) and came home. He drove from California to TN in 24 hours. They got home Monday night and Tuesday morning they walked in my hospital room. That meant so much to me..that he would drop what he was doing and do that.
Again, I seen tears in his eyes when we went in to see the boys. They were 3.8 and 3.14 pounds, even at two months early. I was in labor a total of five days and forty hours with the boys. That man stayed up here until I came home from the hospital, and he was sure the boys would be fine before he left to go back home and back on the road. He called me two or three times a day to find out how I was, and of course how the boys were.
They came back up when the boys were several months old, and although he didn't go to church...he went with me, when I had the boys dedicated on Mother's Day. He spent his birthday (and Breanna and Samuel's, the day after his) with us. Then again we seen him on Christmas. Just after Christmas he got pneumonia and was hospitalized. He refused to let me come home, said I needed to stay up here and take care of "his grandkids". He got out of the hospital, and they went up on the Tennessee River camping. He kicked a block of wood while leveling up the camper and it ended up lifting the nail on his toe. Being a diabetic he went back in the hospital, as it didn't take long to get infected.
The year before the boys were born, he also had gastric bypass surgery, as the diabetes, and a couple of other factors took a toll on his body and he was swelling so much. They did all the testing and never said anything about congestive heart failure....we learned later that even back then he had it. He had a hard time keeping anything down, and lived the best he could until a couple months before Labor Day 2004. His body finally broke down, and I received the call that I needed to get Norm home from the Gulf...and come home. I got in touch with Norm (he was deployed for 6 1/2 months at the time), and told him. Pop said he needs you to come home.....(he requested Norman to come home, something he wouldn't have done any other time, because he was so proud of him being in the military and taking care of "his daughter"). I was at Walmart with my friend Tracy when I got the call to get Norm home. I made the arrangements to get Norm home, and while on his flight late that evening, I got the call that Pop was gone. He drifted out of our lives...one of my best friends....gone. It was so very hard to deal with.
Norm finally got home and I made sure he got a good nights rest before we hit the road going home for the funeral. It was so precious to see my kids so in love with this man. They pulled chairs up beside the casket and would "Shhhhh!" everyone telling them that "granddaddy's sleeping". They had no clue, being so young what that meant.
It would break my heart for them to want to call "granddaddy" for the longest time, and I had to try to find a way to break it down on their level that they couldn't call him on the phone anymore. Somehow over time, they seemingly understood, and clung to my mom, calling her often..and let her pacify them. She eventually came to live with us for a little while, and is now back in Tennessee taking care of her mom.
Respectfully, admirably, and lovingly I share this layout with you all..."Pop...I love and miss you.
1 comment:
That was really touching. Made my heart ache. Rest in peace, Charles. <3
Post a Comment