Happy Birthday to my Grandad...
I wish you were still here.
It has been many years, but I would have loved to
have known you as an adult.
In my eyes, you were the last of
the real cowboys...
It is funny, two things I still remember. I remember your hands.
Your hard working, hands of leather.
They were rough, wrinkled and always held a cigarette.
And you had a smell...probably your smoke, cowboy sweaty smell, :),
but still, sometimes I smell it. And I think of you.
There are days I would like to go back to my past...and
enjoy the days of branding at the old corral.
I loved the times we would ride in the back of your old white truck,
and you would drive through the land under the old oak trees.
Sometimes we couldn't duck quick enough and the
branches would hit us right in the face.
(Now that I know better, I think you did that on purpose.)
Watermelon will never be as good as it was at your place.
I still don't know who shot the seeds the furthest.
Now it wasn't all fun and games.
You had a temper.
The stories have been told.
But in my eyes,
as a child...
I didn't see it.
I still don't see it.
I just choose not to.
I prefer to remember it through the eyes of a child...
In my eyes, you were my Hero.
I was trying to scan a picture or two, but my scanner isn't working for some reason. So I will post this anyways. If I can get it going I will go back and post the pictures later.
Things aren't the same.
Your house and land...old, run down and
falling apart. But the memories keep it alive.
There are "issues"...some we can't seem to fix.
But the memories keep it alive.
You are gone...
Grandma is gone...
But the memories keep it alive.
I heard once, if you continue to tell the stories, that is how
you keep them alive.
I choose that.
Anyways...I still think of you on your Birthday.
And quite often on other days.
I wish you were still here...
Until we meet again...
