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Let
me tell you about my Grandpa Jack
My grandparents raised me from an infant of 3 months old. They had to be the most patient, loving people in the world. Grandpa was busy with the farm but he always had time for me, whether it was to listen, encourage or just take a walk to show me the small wonders around us. I remember learning to tell time with his pocketwatch which hung from a belt loop on a braid of rawhide. He would hold it as he taught me and then, very carefully he would place it into my hand. Oh, how he trusted me! I was very careful because I knew there was no money for another one and he depended upon his watch for many things.
I learned to count while Grandpa and I planted the family garden. Every child could say "one, two, three". Sometimes, when the days were the hottest, he would have a delicious watermelon cooling beneath the shade from an old oak tree. When his sharp knife touched it, sweet juice would ooze from the crack that traveled the length of the ripe melon. Juice would drip from my elbows leaving sticky trails as I devoured my "rasher" of summer fruit without benefit of utensil.
His unproclaimed mission seemed to be to teach me something new every day that he lived. I can hear him calling to me.
"Come here, Sweetpea. Can you tell me why the road appears to have water on it when there has been no rain?"
Of course I didn't know, so he would explain about condensation and optical illusion. That lesson taught me the difference between an oasis and a mirage. I hadn't left the confines of the farm but my mind had traveled to far away places.
Although "Mr. Jack" lacked an abundance of formal education, the wealth of knowledge he shared with me has always remained as a "guiding light" in much that I do. Above all else that he taught me, he taught me to believe in myself. His own belief in me and his encouragement has helped me to accomplish things that he and I could only dream about then. We never discussed me becoming a writer. Instead, he always assured me that I could accomplish anything that I worked hard enough for. He never told me it would be easy.
Grandpa never saw me graduate from high school or go to college. He never knew that I married his attorney's step-son. He never knew that I would become a writer that was given the privilege of having "readings" and seeing my words in print. Nor did he ever know that I had a 26 year banking career in the same bank where he used to borrow money to "get his crops in". What he did know was that "in his eyes" I would make him proud. Share the following with me as I honor him.
Grandpa
Jack
A spirit
whispered softly to me today
The voice of my Grandpa Jack
He had something important to say
So, for me he had come back
His hair
of faded red
And eyes of twinkling blue
Made me know there was nothing to dread
He was just doing what Grandpa's do
"Sweetpea"
was spoken in gentle tones
"Today you made me proud
For you stood and spoke so strong
Delivering your words to the crowd"
"You
listened well to my advice
When but a child upon my knee
You were only about 'so high'
When I nicknamed you "Sweetpea"
"We
laughed at the time, as I recall
For the flower was straight and strong
But now you're able to appear tall
As you share your own sweet song"
"But,
Grandpa" I heard myself reply
"I was not alone one moment of the day
You were ever present by my side
From me you never strayed"
"Your
guidance was with me as a child
As it remains with me now
You taught me how to face life's trials
Your wisdom coming back somehow"
"Encouraging
words were your generous gift
Given when I felt afraid
You always managed to give me a lift
Memories are cherished of your praise"
By
Rosalene H. Abrams
March 9, 2000
Arthur
Jordon (Jack) Humphrey
Born:
October 11, 1897
Departed: September 14, 1968
(This photo was taken before I was born. I'm so thankful that I can share it with you here)
Note: The midi you are listening to was Grandpa's favorite and often as he went about his chores on the farm his voice could be heard singing "Shall We Gather at the River" But, there were special circumstances surrounding his choice of hymn.
He was an occasional drinking man and my grandmother despised all strong drink. She would proclaim to anyone listening, "I wish every drop of liquor was dumped into the river!" It was then that Grandpa would break out in gleeful song just to antagonize the situation. He did so love to tease and joke and I loved him all the more for it.
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