Ode to Granddaddy

My Granddaddy Has (short for Hasford) passed away a couple of days ago. Don't worry......I'm not planning on naming any children after him. (grin.) On New Year's Day I spent the evening at the wake (funeral home visitation.) Not a good way to start the New Year, huh? He was 90.

What is a granddaddy? Well, he's pretty much all the things Has Watson was to me growing up. And believe me...biology has nothing to do with it. Has was my "adopted granddaddy." My dad's parents died when he was a teenager, and my dad lived with Has and his family until he graduated from high school. Has was actually a distant cousin, but I have called him granddaddy since I could speak. I called him "granddaddy," he called me "Motor Mouth"........since I was about 3 years old.

He says I hardly spoke until I was 3, and then I started spitting out whole sentences. He claims I haven’t shut up since. There are those who would agree with him. (grin.) But his teasing didn't bother me. Being labeled with a nickname by granddaddy was like an honor. Only one other grandchild (out of 10) had a nickname that was given by him. Granddaddy didn't have much time with my girls (Sarah and Loren) because I had my kids late in life, and we haven't lived nearby very long since they were born. But I’m quite sure he would deem my oldest daughter, Sarah, “Motor Mouth JR.” (grin.) Our family jokes about that. It helps keep his memory alive, and it brings a smile to everyone when we talk about it. Happy memories!

Granddaddy lived right next door to us when I was growing up, and he spent a lot of time with me, especially when I was younger (before my parents split up and we moved.) Sometimes mama would leave us with him and his wife, Grandma Bertha, when she had to take care of business that was not “child appropriate.” My brother and I looked forward to meals with them because Grandma made the BEST homemade biscuits and the sweeeeeeeetest sweet tea you ever tasted. Go Grandma! I don't know how old I was before I realized Cane Patch was not the ONLY brand of syrup that existed. That's all they ever used. And it was GOOD on those homemade biscuits, too. Grandma usually had some kind of cake on hand.....usually chocolate with LOTS of layers, or pound cake. We enjoyed the food and drink, but mostly, we enjoyed his company. He would tease us (me and my bro), tease us, and then tease us some more. It was his way of saying he loved us.

He taught me how to play cards. We played LOTS of card games at his house, and spent lots of time on the front porch. We also ate LOTS of watermelon. Granddaddy would get a BIG watermelon, and then call all the grand kids who were nearby to come over and share it......usually outside on the side porch or in the yard.....so we could spit the seeds in the yard if need be.....or not. Shoot, we just wanted to spit seeds because it was the only time we actually had permission to spit! And we ate lots of pomegranates too. They had a pomegranate bush in their yard, and since pomegranate seeds are THE most sour thing you have ever tasted, we LOVED them.

I love Grandma, and I know she loves me……but there was something special about Granddaddy………because he knew how to make YOU feel special. His real grand kids and I would argue over who was his favorite. One would say, “well, he took me fishing last week.” Another would say, “well, he took me to the store and bought me ice cream.” I argued along with the rest because I felt just as special as they were. To me, he really WAS my granddaddy. Even though he had lots of REAL grandchildren, he NEVER made me feel like I wasn't one of them. I’d spent far more time with him growing up than I ever did with my real grandfather. (He lived farther away.)

In case you haven't already guessed, we lived in the country.....WAY out in the country. We usually had a garden. My dad would borrow granddaddy's tractor for our garden every year. Daddy would let me sit on his lap and steer. Of course I thought I was "hot stuff" because I got to drive granddaddy's tractor.

Granddaddy gave me my first puppy when I was 7. We‘d had other dogs, but this was my first puppy. He was a black lab. Granddaddy named him “Onion.” Now how many pets have you encountered with THAT name? Granddaddy said his head was shaped like an onion........thus, the name. Onion was THE best dog I ever had. I have loved black labs ever since, and have had several labs and lab mixes over the years.

Granddaddy gave me the first money I ever made from working on my own….and I mean REAL work. This wasn‘t allowance for household chores mind you. He paid me and my cousin Dan $2 each for digging up potatoes straight from the ground. Man, that was hard work! And my nails had more dirt under them than I’ve ever seen there since. But I was quite proud of my crisp new $2 bill.....my very own money, made with my own 2 little hands, from hard work in the field. My mom put it up for safekeeping. I don’t know what ever happened to it, but I never forgot the first money I ever earned for digging up "taters."

I never had this kind of relationship with my real grandfather. There were 9 children and 17 grandchildren on that side of the family, and not enough time and attention to go around. But I thank God for giving me my "adopted granddaddy" to show me what having a granddaddy is really all about. Thank you, Lord, for one of many blessings!