Pop

My Granny, my dad's mom, passed away several years ago. Miss her tons. Every time I cook pancakes or eat English peas, when I see ducks on a pond or lake, when I hear certain hymns, when I see a lady in a church hat, when I wear one of her aprons, I remember her. Dearly. Wish she was here now to play with my kids, to tell them stories like she did when I was little. She is very missed.

Today, her husband was laid to rest right next to her. My 'Pop'. He was technically my step grandfather as Granny was widowed by my dad's father when my dad was just 17. But Pop and Granny were married before I was even born....the only grandpa I ever knew (since my moms father passed away when I was an infant). He was very much the real deal to me and my sisters.

His impeccably told stories and the way he could recite poems will forever be sketched in my heart. He helped me memorize several of them when I was in elementary school. Wish I had written down or memorized more of them. He loved in a language I easily understood, and this was long before I knew about the 5 love languages and my deep need for quality time. He was just good at conversation and good at making the most of ordinary moments. He was a great peanut loving, tomato growing, leave raking, bird watching, kid loving, poetic Pop.

He'll always have a special place in my heart and his letters, stories, and memories are priceless treasures.

Morgan