96 years ago my Grandpa, James Lawrence Stewart, Sr., was born. Twenty years ago he died. The longer he's been gone the more I miss him.

He is the one who gave me ice cold Coke. That is, until my mom made him stop. It was 7up from then on. No exceptions.

He is the one that taught me the value of work. We built wind mills together during my summer visits.

He is the one that taught me to say, "Well, I'll be a suck-egged mule!" Whatever that was, it sounded bad. My mom made him stop that, too. It wasn't proper.

He let me take his .22 rifle and go down to the wash to shoot at cans. This was a big deal. I was ten the first time he gave me the gun and let me go off on my own. I still have the gun. He gave it to me after I graduated from High School.

Grandpa Stewart never did graduate. He told me many stories about the depression. He grew up on a ranch in Arizona. He started smoking when he became an every day hand. That was at age five.

He thought that there were two great men that ever walked the earth. Jesus Christ and FDR. He taught me the value of religion, although I never saw him darken the door of a church. In fact, one of the great things about visiting Grandpa for extended periods, or his visits that overlapped on Sunday was no church.

He taught me how to play scrabble. We played for hours and hours during every visit. He also played Yahtzee whenever he wasn't playing Scrabble.

In 1964 I spent the whole summer at his house in the middle of nowhere Arizona. He painted a sign. Yellow with black lettering. 100% Democrat. He sent it home with me. My mom threw it away and told me that she would not be voting for Lyndon Johnson. Grandpa was wrong about Goldwater. Well, maybe not, but my mom wasn't impressed. A copy of the sign hangs in my garage to this day. My wife doesn't want it in the house, but hates the idea of the neighbors seeing it when the garage door is up.

I was given a pocket watch on my thirteenth birthday. It was given to my father on his thriteenth and my Grandpa received it on his thirteenth. The watch was won by his father in a game of chance. Great-Grandpa Stewart was a professional gambler. When he returned home and realized that it was Grandpa's birthday, the watch was the only thing he had to give. It began a tradition in my family. My son has the watch now.

I'm named after Grandpa. A fact that means something to me. He was human. Made mistakes. Certainly was far from perfect. Like me. I appreciate his good and bad traits.

I have a picture of him that looks over me in my home office. I like to think that he is aware of me and would be proud to know that I'm still here, doing the best I can..........
7:21:04 PM    comment []