Sunday, June 19, 2011


many memories i have of my childhood revolve around extended family and the times we would get together. ma and bobo (my dad's parents) lived in or near the same town as us for the majority of my life so we were over there fairly regularly. it was not uncommon for those who smoked to be outside shooting the bull about how much rain we needed or what the cowboys needed to do to fix their defense. many of the older kids and grownups would be gathered around the table playing phase 10, canasta or zonk. the one tv was in the living room and they had only 3 movies that we liked to watch- a care bears nutcracker movie, the unsinkable molly brown, and lil' abner. whenever we wanted to watch any of those we would have to ask bobo if we could watch it. so in we would traipse over to his chair and ask him to please let us watch these movies, and most of the time, he would oblige. in my opinion, the care bears was probably his favorite!
bobo was missing the tips of 2 of his fingers from an accident he had working in the mechanic shop at john deere, but whenever we would ask him what happened to his fingers he would tell us that was what happened when you picked your nose. as i got older and realized he was just joking i have fond memories of watching younger cousins' eyes bulge the first time they heard it.
in 2001 bobo had some serious heart trouble and it wasn't expected he would live to see 4 of us grandkids graduate that year- he was a fighter. doctors told him he needed to stop smoking or the outlook would be grim for him in the future- he was stubborn. in may of 2001 i walked across the stage to receive my diploma and bobo was alive. in june of 2006 i married chris and bobo was there to see me get married. christmas of 2010 i expected it to be the last time i would see him alive as he was quickly declining. i brought carter to texas to see him in march of this year. friday morning, my stubborn, tough, and loving bobo went to be with Jesus. he left his body riddled with cancer, his lungs that couldn't breathe well enough, his heart that couldn't keep up, to assume a new body that had none of the ailments that his earthly body had.
my bobo was not perfect- far from it in fact, but in the last few years, everytime i would see him, he would kiss me on my cheek, hug me tight around my neck, and tell me that he loved me, that he was proud of me, and that i was a good girl. so now if i close my eyes and try really hard i can still smell the lingering scent of tobacco, hear the gravely sound of his voice and feel the scratchiness of his stubbly cheek as he hugged me; and that is the memory i am going to hold onto most of all until i see him again, someday.