Jewells of Thought

Ironically, I had about the same amount of time with Great-Grandpa Arla as I did Grandpa Leo. There was only about a month, give or take a few days up to a week, in between their deaths. It seems that I remember his death just about 10 days after my birthday which would be somewhere near January 30th.

However, music was the main focus in my life as that young teenager. His death truly spurred something in me that would eventually send me in different directions from music. As of this year I am still learning about Grandpa Leo and his different sides.

One of the simple truths I knew about Grandpa was his love and duty for his Church and Church Family. During my newspaper fetish of 2020, I found Grandpa’s name came up more than I could ever have imagined. Simply because he was a dutiful servant to his Lord and the post he managed; which was Superintendent of Sunday School. For years this was posted in the paper with the Church details for everyone to read in the local papers each week. The number was quite large.

His hands for decades detailed the different sums for Sunday School. It was a task he handled with care and I believe there was a young boy, especially watching and observing this task being handled.

Have you noticed I use Papaw or Grandpa when referring to any of my Grandpa’s. My little cousins and I have had different conversations about what we call our Grandparents. It’s kind of funny the different versions of the word Grandpa and Grandma there are!

What do you use?

Another simple truth about my Grandfathers hands was his hard work and cultivation in soil. As a young girl I remember hearing and knowing how much my Grandpa loved his tomatoes. Which is very ironic knowing how much my Dad likes ketchup, but not raw tomatoes. Gardening altogether was a necessity when he was younger and his parents had 6 kids to feed on top of themselves. They canned whatever they couldn’t use at the time. It was what they had to do during the Great Depression, when meat was scarce.

As a young girl I remember his garden and how big it was for his big family. He also had the same size family his parents had and he understood the work, the need and the amazingly good benefits of eating fresh garden produce. So much so that all of his children love the fresh goodness of a garden themselves.

The third simple truth of his hands comes from being a soldier in World War II. As soon as he made it to Basic Training he began to write to a certain young lady from his high school and his Church. The beautiful penmanship written on those pages, his thoughts, are incredible to me.

The first batch I saw were 5 five letters, but they were all written to his family. I could totally elaborate on this more, but that’s not the focus for this article. Anyhow, once some people found out I was researching and had some intriguing papers I began receiving some written correspondence from cousins on the West Coast. Plus I believe James Francis Jr. gave Grandma some letters that directly came to me. In all I received 4 letters to add to my growing bank of correspondence from Grandpa and about him.

Can I tell you how overwhelming all of that was for me. It was truly like being on cloud 9, but that I was being seen as a historian felt validating. Then to comprehend as a granddaughter what all of these missives meant on the whole and separately was mind-blowing.

After all I was a musician at heart!

This year I finally got to touch the letters I knew about, but thought was gone. I wrote an entire first article here on Word Press about that event. It was the very first article I debuted on my first site back at the end of March. I was nearly in tears when I got to read the words, Dear Betty!

Grandpa’s hands crafted such an intimate and funny portrayal of a relationship I had known was there, but was now finally getting to see. I didn’t see this side of him in his family letters. They were a breath of fresh air to see my grandparents relationship from that time, especially as I have been in a long-distance relationship myself. I had to smile at the loving endearments he chose to use are similar to the ones I now use. It feels comforting… to see that even now 23 years from his funeral.

The Lord gave me such a loving and wonderful Grandfather. These truths are sweet reminders of him by the work of his hands through his lifetime.