Well yeah thats why I got him.

[KB.]

A good man died on Monday. Read about him. It's a long read but worth every word.

I'll post a link to an article written about him almost 5 years ago as an introduction.

He was my Grand Father, a soldier, a POW, a husband for almost 68 years, a father, grandfather, great grandfather, farmer, well digger, and a man of faith.

http://www.mckenziebanner.com/2003/2003 ... 0Gowan.htm



“The things which the child loves remain in the domain of the heart until old age. The most beautiful thing in life is that our souls remaining over the places where we once enjoyed ourselves”

~Kahlil Gibran

There will be no proof reading of this. It’ll be just as it comes out of my head. My heart.

I was the last of the grandchildren that my Mother’s Mother kept. Those were the days when family raised family; thank the Lord for that. It still happens but not as often as it once did.

I wore my Grandmother out. She would turn around and I would be gone my big head bobbing up and down as I ran through the cotton field across the little gravel road out front. I was off to explore the little pond and chase frogs or look for snakes. The old half blind family dog tore into my thigh hard enough to get me a dozen stitches. I was never still. I didn’t listen. I had my own world and if you weren’t in it I didn’t have time to give you directions.

I still am and I still don’t.

I remember the thing I did to make her finally tell my Mom she couldn’t handle me anymore. It was a Sunday afternoon and everyone was there. All of the children and grandchildren. It was an every Sunday type of thing. We always had such a huge spread of food. Good food. Fried okra, bar-b-q, tomatoes, green beans, mashed potatoes, biscuits, every thing. My cousins never paid me much mind. I was bossy even then. More so then than now. Demanding.

I could take em or leave em. I had my own little world with my own little agenda. Still do. I guess I got a little perturbed at someone because I decided to walk my little bare foot ass down to the end of the gravel road and stick my thumb out and hitch hike straight out of there. Someone who knew us picked me up and brought me back to the house.

I was two years old.

I want to walk to the end of the road and stick my thumb out about three times a week; twenty-nine years later. Say what you will but I am the same man as I was child.

We had the visitation for my Grandfather tonight my brother and I put our suits on and we drove to Milan and pulled into the funeral home. I walked into where his casket was and hugged my mom long and hard. I heard my dad do the little sniffle thing he does when he tears up. I gave him the respect a man gives another man and kept my eyes on my mom. A man rarely ever wants another man to look him in the eye when they start to water up. A woman is fine. It’s different. My father wore his self out helping with my Papa over the last few months. My grandmother made sure to let everyone know how much she and Papa loved him for it and appreciated it. Mom says he and grandmamma have gotten real close over that time.

I looked over at the casket and saw him laying there the inside of the casket had stitching that said “Going Home” He had his black suit on with a red tie. That strong as steel jaw line you can see in his younger pictures was still there. My tiny grandmamma looked every bit like the aged Southern widow. Straight out of a Faulkner novel. Beautiful. She had a handkerchief in her hand and she was crying as she looked up at him. I think that was the first time I have ever seen her cry.

My mom told me I needed to go hug her neck and I hesitated because I knew what was coming. I walked over to her and bent down low, kissed her on her wrinkled forehead and told her I loved her. I hugged her neck. “I’ll be going to see him soon.” “I know grandmamma and that is alright.” “I miss him already.”

That was when I had to walk away. I felt like I was melting. The salty tears rolling down my face. I looked up for a brief second and my brother and my father weren’t looking at me. Mom was but that’s alright. It’s different. I walked to the back of the aisles and took my glasses off. I wiped my face and walked outside to smoke.

As 5:30 rolled around people I haven’t seen in years started to walk in. It was a good crowd filled with proud men and beautiful women. Most were older; most still knew who I was I look more like I did as a child now than I did 5 years ago. Lots of hugs and handshakes.

I stood and talked with cousins; we talked about how we should arrange the pall bearers so it wouldn’t leave someone too tall with someone too short. I hugged my cousin Christy closest to me in age and the one I am closest too emotionally. She told me she misses me as she always done and she told me to stay put for awhile she liked having me close rather than in some random place too far away.

I played with the little great grandkids. I had heard that one of the little girls had said that I cooked good for a “guy” and I picked at her about it.

I shook more hands and I saw a guy that had played on my basketball team when I coached an adult league girls and guys team. I asked if he still played ball and he said he did. It was the first time I had seen him since 1997. He and his wife are still as good looking as they were 11 years ago.

I mingled and told people I was glad they had come out.

I saw the nurse that had stayed with them for the last few weeks and introduced myself. We talked about her and her family; how she had never had any children but how she had raised her sister’s kids. We talked about her “granddaughter” and that at 9 years old she was blind, had to have a feeding tube, and had lost every bit of motor control. We talked about the Star Center. She told me how she had to have two back surgeries and a knee replacement and she had asked God what she should do with her time now that it was all free.

She had been taking care of that little girl for years she figured she could do the same for other folks. She did for my Grandmother and my Papa. Her name is Deborah and she asked my Mom if it was alright if she came to pay her respects. She told my Mom she had never met anyone like my Grand parents. So much love. So much respect for one another.

I’ve never met anyone like them either.

Deborah and I sat and talked for a good long while. She talked about my Grandfather drinking his coffee from a saucer and how she had never seen anyone do that before. I told her every time I drank coffee I wanted to pour it into a saucer because that was all I had ever seen as a child.

She told me how every night when my Grandmother would get ready for bed and put her gown on she would come into the room with Papa and hold his hand and they would kiss each other good night and tell each other “I love you.” She said it wasn’t just one kiss but they would talk and kiss a few times here and there. Always holding each others hands. I can think of no better punctuation to end a sentence shared between people married for almost 68 years and just as much in love today as they were in 1940. A kiss. That is the best way.

Deborah told me how Grandmama told her that her Mother had died when she was just one year old and how she had to learn how to cook biscuits at five. My grandmamma makes a damn fine biscuit. She told me how Grandmama’s Father waited until she got married before he married again. I told Deborah that Omar Douglas was thirty six and married a woman half his age, two years younger than his daughter. I told her how Omar was a Justice of the peace, a school teacher, that he wrote poetry that we still had copies of. Beautiful poetry about faith, friendship, love, and being a man of the earth. I told her how he had went to school at Valparaiso in Indiana and that Grandmama had no idea how he had even afforded to travel so far away and go to such a school.

Deborah told me how that when Papa would wake up no matter when it was as soon as he called for his love, “Louise” that she was right there. She told me how when Grandmama walked in one morning that he didn’t call and Papa didn’t stir (sorry for the non-Southern folks. It is a shame you don’t have such wonderful vernacular) that she knew he would be gone soon, and he was that very day.

She told me she felt blessed to have been a part of their lives even for such a short time. I told her she had been a blessing in their lives and our lives.

As the hours slowly meandered by and the crowd thinned out except for a few people here and there visiting with one another. I heard someone mention that he had known Jodie his whole life but never knew he was a prisoner of war. I felt sorry for him. He missed a lot. Even Deborah knew about it. Papa told her the stories about the cabbages, the potatoes, and how all of his buddies but one had died that day.

As eight o’clock approached I took my jacket off and went to sit next to Grandmama. I eased my down to the floor and put my hand on her leg. She put her hand on my head and said, “You ain’t got much use for a hairbrush do you?” I laughed and told her I reckoned I didn’t and I was just fine with that. “I figure the last time I had use for one was the last time Mom wore my backside out with hers because I was doing something I shouldn’t have been. She laughed at that, “Spare the rod spoil the child.”

I told her how nice she looked and how everyone had been saying so all night. “Well that’s good. I guess they fixed me up alright.” I noticed her slip showing and she did as well. She pulled it back under her dress and made a fuss with it. I told her to show a little leg like she did in that picture back in 1943. “You know that dress was made special. It was right before he shipped out to go over seas.” I smiled at the thought of it. Made special. I winked at her and she laughed again.

“He was such a damn good looking man.” “Well yeah. That’s why I got him.” “Yall did real good you know. Almost 68 years.” “We did real good.” “I’ve told stories to a lot of people about the two of you. About that love.” “I love him just as much today as they day we got married.” “I know you do and I know he did you too.”

She told me she wished everyone in the world could be so fortunate. She said she figured the world would be a better place if they were. That is probably the most honest and true to the last word thing I have ever heard. The world would be better with more love like those two had in it. She said most people don’t work at it anymore. They hit a little bump and instead of working it out they just give it up. It takes a lot of faith and respect. That is where the love comes from and what keeps it around.

I held her hand and we talked some more. We laughed and we cried just a little bit.

Later on I stood talking with my family, my mom, dad, and my little brother. Mom told us how someone had asked Grandmamma how long she and Papa had known each other. They had all their lives, even as little children, but that in high school a bunch of them used to take trips to Memphis with school and how they would sit in the back of a two ton truck and Papa would come sit next to her and slowly move his hand and rest it on her lower back and how she would move close to him.

She told them that Papa was scared to ask her out official like and that he had finally written her a letter asking her and how she “was right fast” to write him one back saying yes. They courted for a year and were married in 1940 at the age of 18.

68 years later they still held hands and still kissed each other good night. They were still just as much in love as they had ever been. I bet he still would slip his hand to the small of her back and she would still move close to him.

I told my Mom that the first thing Grandmama had told me was that she would be going to see him soon and I told her that was just fine. My dad nodded his head. No more ailments, no more bent over at the back looking at the ground as she walks around. Papa would be strong again walking on his own. They would still be just as much in love as they had ever been and they could continue to hold hands and kiss each other good night.

Tomorrow at 2 o’clock my brother and I along with the rest of the grandsons will carry that beautiful man to his grave. He will be laid to rest next to all of the rest of his family. My entire family is buried there. Both sides. One day I’ll carry my beautifully Southern Grandmama and lay her to rest right next to him; close to him once again. It’ll be a sad day but I know how happy both of them will be once again. She won’t be lonely and he will have his Louise back.



To all of the folks who sent me emails with their condolences. I thank you. It means the world to me. I was surprised by a few and even more surprised by a few who didn’t. No upset just surprised. There is never anything good to say when things like this happen, but rest assured he is where he wants to be and when the good Lord sees fit she will be right by his side again.

I pray some of you can find the kind of love they shared. If you wish you can do the same for me. Thanks for reading.

Kevin





http://data.tennessean.com/obits/jackso ... 0799397-01

[Patsy Warnick]

Wonderful history

KB, I just buried my Father In-Law, married 67 years. I had a gallery of pictures such as you've posted here.

How cool HUH..

Thanks for sharing

Patsy

[JacksDad]

Weddings and funerals.

Peace, K.B.

[Betty Boop]

Wow. Thanks for sharing KB :-4