Thursday, May 13, 2010

memories and poo..... but NOT memories OF poo...

Batgirl and I took a little trip to Texas and Oklahoma last weekend and although I have about a hundred stories to share. (one where she was deliberately trying to make me laugh so hard that I’d wet my pants until she remembered we were in HER car….)

Today’s story is about my Granddaddy and how Batgirl is the best friend ever because she so sweetly listened to his hemorrhoids and constipation stories. I’ve told you before that he’s quite a guy and as he’s gotten older as often happens he really doesn’t have a filter, he’ll just say what’s on his mind. If it had been anyone other than batgirl I would have had to run screaming but she understands his need to talk about poo and how important it is to ones health. After all one could die after 5 days of no pooping…. Or so HE says. And let’s not even get started on the hell it can cause on ones hemorrhoids! Id be happy to pass on his number if you’d like the full blown story but let me warn you it involves descriptions like “the size of a child’s marble” and “probably 30 pound of….” I’ll leave THAT to your imagination.

I’ve written about my granddaddy before and no matter how many times I see him, no matter how many times he describes his bowels and other horrific things I look at that man and see a hard working farmer, welder and Grandpa. When I look into his blue eyes I can just see them glistening in the hot Oklahoma sun. When I hear his voice I can hear him tell me to get on the back of the truck and then shout when to start throwing the hay off for the cows. When I see his overalls and welding clothes still hanging on the back of the kitchen door I can still feel the heat of the many hours I sat and watched him weld. I can just see the sparks flying and smell the metal. When I see him and wrap my arms around him and I can remember how he would come home every day that I was there and open his black metal lunch box and unwrap his lunch that my Grammie had made for him and so carefully had wrapped in wax paper. I can smell the coffee he poured from his green thermos every single day no matter how hot it was. I can still see him sitting in his kitchen chair looking out the sliding glass door towards his farm. I can remember the thousands of times I would watch him walk to the barn. I know exactly how he walks and just how his footsteps sound.

No matter what he says, or does now that he’s older, he’ll always be a big strong farmer, a man who could fix anything, a welder and above all he’ll always be my Granddaddy!

P.S. I don't know why I look like the queen of quite a lot here... I think Im trying to hold my head high so you don't see that Im actually the queen of quite a few chins!

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