PawPaw

Yesterday was my grandaddy's 95th Birthday.

I can hardly write that sentence without tearing up.

If you don't know my Paw Paw, you're really missing out. If you do know him, then you know just how special he really is. You know he's a mess in every sense of the word. And you know why I'm tearing up as I write this.

There is something about a Grandparent's love that shapes and changes a child's life. Yesterday as I watched two of my children sit in my PawPaw's lap while he kissed one of their boo - boos, I thought about how they are making memories that will be so much a part of who they are that they won't even remember making them. I realized , as I thought about my Grandmommy and my PawPaw, that I can close my eyes and recall every detail of their home and of their pink beach house that my PawPaw built with his own two hands. The beach house on St. Dennis Court in Dauphin Island, Alabama, is no longer there. Ivan and Katrina took care of that. The year that the house disappeared was monumental for us all. The beach house was so much more than just a house on stilts. It represented more than just a place to enjoy the sand, water, and sun. It was a place to completely be yourself with the family that had known you since the day you were born. As long as that house was still standing, we knew that we would get together each summer and without even knowing it, celebrate being a family. To this day, I can't go to the beach anywhere without bing overwhelmed with a sense of love, awe, and wonder. If I could bottle this feeling up and give it to my children, I most certainly would . These feelings are synonymous with the memories of that pink beach house. That pink beach house is synonymous with my PawPaw. And while the pink house that my PawPaw built was suddenly gone, the memories live on.


If you've never slept in an unairconditioned beach house on stilts that sways to the wind as it blows, you are missing out. I remember the sound of the metal blinds clanging against the open screened windows. The soft hum of the box fan in the background. The sound of the breeze against the screen. The smell of sand and surf as you drift off to sleep. The sound of the waves against the shore. Ten cousins tucked in all around you. And you're all safe and sound because PawPaw's there.

I remember the sandy floor, the sandy feet, the sandy sheets. I even remember the first flooring in the beach house. A tan and white stone looking Formica that blended in with all the sand that a dozen cousins could bring in during one day.

I remember the deep pink toilet in the pink bathroom in the pink beach house.

I've seen more falling stars that I can count while lying on my back on a beach towel on the deck of that beach house with my cousins. Every once in a while,the silence was interrupted with a, "Wow. Did you see that one?"

I remember riding in the "Love Boat II" with our orange, bulky, over-sized life vests. I remember being caught in a storm in that boat. We all huddled on the floor as PawPaw raced for home. He never flinched. Cool as a cucumber.

I remember PawPaw cleaning and scaling fish like nobody's business underneath that beach house. If you were lucky, he'd open up the belly of the fish and show you what it had just eaten. I even remember the handle of his filet knife.

I remember the paper grocery bags in the bottom of the "ice box" (he still calls it that), full of live blue crabs that he pulled out of the crab traps he had set out earlier in the day. The crabs would suffer a slow death in the ice box before being cleaned and tossed into a pot of homemade Gumbo.

I remember being called a "jackass" more times than I can count. It was his term of endearment for me. I'll admit it now...it did hurt my feelings. I knew he loved me and I loved him to pieces! I smile, now,every time I hear the word.

I remember watching my PawPaw put his cast net in his teeth and toss it effortlessly into the water. I never remember him pulling up an empty nest. I'm sure he did, but I don't remember it. I remember shrimp, catfish, mullet, minnows.

I remember that he'd run his fingers through the water on the Bay -side at night, and the jellyfish would illuminate under the moonlight. We thought he was magic. Honestly , we still do.

I remember the sound and smell of the percolator and even the sound his spoon made as he stirred his coffee in the white coffee mug with the green design at he top.
Even now when I hear someone stirring coffee in a ceramic mug, I smile.

I remember Grandmommy's potato salad and deviled eggs sprinkled with paprika or cayenne paper, and fried mullet or catfish. Homemade hushpuppies with ketchup or cocktail sauce. Homemade tartar sauce. Lemon wedges. Sweet iced tea.

I remember looking at the ocean at night and seeing the lights of shrimp boats by the dozen. It was mesmerizing.

I remember climbing into the back of my PawPaw's red Ford pick-up. Sheer excitement to ride in the back bed of a pick-up with ten of your cousins and your PawPaw at the wheel.

I remember him sitting on the porch of that house with his binoculars in his hand. He'd sit quietly, watching the sea gulls dive for their dinner, the shrimp boats come and go. He'd point out the dolphins in the distance.

I never remember him raising his voice. Ever. He was so calm and gentle, yet so strong and confident.

I can see it all in my mind and my heart, and it makes me smile. It's a piece of time that has shapd me and taught me how to live and love well.

While PawPaw used to be a man of few words, if you're in a room with him now...hold on. He'll talk you're ear off. I try to hang on every word, because I know that time is precious. I want to soak it all in, remember every detail of every story, even if it's the 10th time I've heard it. He loves re-telling his stories. I guess when you're 95 years old, there isn't much to say about the future, so you cling to the past and share your stories in hopes that the memories don't die when you do. Don't worry, Paw Paw...if you only knew. You're a legacy. The memories you have given me will live on as long I'm alive, and I will pass them down to my children, who will pass them down to their children, and their grandchildren.

So on your 95th Birthday, I wish youall the love and happiness that your life has brought to me and so many others. I could not be more grateful.

Thanking God today for this wonderful man I am so blessed to call "PawPaw." What a legacy!