Grandpa

Leakin eyes n heavy hearts, we regret the tellin’ of this here tale.

Our beloved Grandpa went wanderin over to the wrong side of the dirt pile, endin his 92 years of tourin this side of the horizon.

‘Tis true we ain’t got no rightful claim but claim him we do just the same. Grandpa be leavin us with near 52 years of sweet memories.

N’ver did he hurt no body or breathin thang, just went bout his way n paid ya no mind if ya got a notion he aught be doin life different.

Grandpa was always grateful fer his haves, not frettin non bout his have nots. N it be him that would’ve said ‘it ain’t bout blood, its bout who yous be lovin’ that made up your family.

What made him prouder than a peacock was knowin and tellin that never a dog crossed his path, that didn’t love him. Buddy was his most trusted of fur friends, whom he talked bout often throughout the years.

Sure nuff he took to n ornery spell a time or two on account of his creakin bones, but cept fer the body rottenin that comes with age, his mind was sharp as a pups tooth right until the day he wander’d.

A welcome mat hung on his door; never did he mind what our bare feet tracked on his floor. “Hello, Hello,” his voice would ring out quicker than you be knockin. “Help yourself to whatever you be wantin, then pull up a stump n sit fer’a spell” All was always well cause there ain’t no use complainin, but he would listin just the same ifin yous had a bout with the spouts.

A crib board would appear n ifin ya was willin he’d be teachin. Grandpa taught more then a few of our clan how’d to be playin crib. Grandpa wasn’t always dealt a hand that seem’d fair, but he would play it just the same. Yous be hard press’d to skunk him cause his wit was always about, n more times than not you’d be left behind the stinkhole.

Dogs would git their pats n scratches for they be welcome too. All critters, for that matter, unless they be eyein him birds. Grandpa would busy the littles, collectin sticks for the wood stove. Grandpa enjoyed Halloween, when all the young’uns would cum knockin. Yous could go to his house next summer and still find candy, ripe for the teeth rotten.

N’ver was there a gentler soul or truer gentleman, he had his ears shorten’d n wash’d off the stink for e’ver special occasion. Seen us thru every celebration, our ails n held us together when we would surely be fallin apart.

Yup sure will be sorely missed, by all that called him grandpa, claimin him as our own with pride n love carried behind our breast pocket, outta respect too, cause of what he did when he had no obligation to do but dun it anyways. We dun right by 'im makin sure that his plate was the first we be fixin n a servin on every sit-down occasion.

If yous find yourself rambling down highway 11 towards Rocky n git a hankerin to pay your respects just turn left on range road 55, n make a dust cloud fer 1.9 km to the Horseguard cemetery. His bones be restin there but I’d be wagerin that his spirit be celebritin with the clan reunion with three finger pours, n Buddy, shee be right by his side.