Gramps

My grandpa was a reader. He lived in a little house with a lot of people and never had too much to say. I loved him so dang much, with that almost freshly-shaved, scratchy chin on my face when he kissed my cheek. He always smelled so good, just a hint of a Old Spice, smoke, coffee, and Doublemint gum. Always the gum. I carry it in my purse now because it makes me feel like he's not so far away. He always called me "Rebecca" punching each syllable in rhythm. Every chance I could, I would sit with him in the dark kitchen. Jonny Carson would be playing on the TV there, and also in the living room just a few feet away where Grandma was folding laundry.

Grampa would unwrap the soiled bandages from his feet and rewrap them every night. I'd sit next to him and watch as he carefully disposed of the old bandages and replaced them with new ones and clean socks. I remember asking him it hurt, but he'd never fess up. He'd always say, "Not too bad." I could kiss his sweet face right now. I never felt an ounce of unkindness in him. He was quiet and thoughtful, and didn't stir anything up when crowds of people would pile into his space. He'd take a seat at the table if there was one open, but if there wasn't, he'd carry his food into the living room and eat in front of the TV without a word. He always had a book within arms reach, and I don't ever remember seeing him with a book by any author besides Louis L'Amour. I wasn't a reader back then, otherwise I might've picked one up to see what was so interesting.

When I'm driving alone, I listen to audiobooks. It's become one of my favorite pastimes. Trouble is, when I finish a book, I have a voracious appetite for the next one. If it's not already downloaded, I feel frenzied trying to come up with the next one. I've come across some real bombs this way, just downloading what the app suggested. However, this week when I was waiting as Starbucks for my lil birthday girl's frappucino, the book rack caught my attention. Louis L'Amour books everywhere I looked! I decided I would get one from the digital library and see what was so great about them.

Today was my first engagement with a Sackett brother, and it did not disappoint. There's a quiet love story unfolding, and really, of course there is. I'm holding my breath, hoping it doesn't turn into some reckless flesh-fest and smatter my image of my sweet grandpa with his clipper-cut white hair and wire-rimmed glasses sitting in the corner with Louis propped in front of him while the cousins practiced pile-driving each other off the couch.

I miss that ol guy. I miss him a lot today, but I feel better chewing Doublemint and listening to his favorite author spin tales of the old west for me. RIP, Grampa. I'll love you forever.

lvb

Photo Credit: louislamour.com