I remember Saturdays going to town with him. Town was a six mile trek and riding along with Pawpaw was a treat. I am sure he brought along other of the grandchildren on occasion. But I think he had this way of making each of us feel special so I only remember it being just him and me. I remember him buying me a chic-o-stick at a store. The store vague in my memory. A hardware store perhaps. The remainder of the Saturday trips unclear in my memory now thirty years later. Odd the things we remember. I rarely see chic-o-sticks in the candy section now, but when I do I always remember these trips to town as a little girl.
I remember sitting beside him at his old upright piano. Listening. Pecking at keys. Discovering. Roots of my love for music found with him. The music was woven into his being. A God given gift. For me it was a talent, but one requiring more work. Not as easy as it was for him.
I remember my fingers gliding over the keys. A child’s version of Beethoven’s Fur Elise I was learning. Him listening and encouraging.
I remember other things too that I would rather forget. Like the cancer.
But I’ll choose to remember the other things. The pleasant things more. The chick-o-sticks, the piano and a pawpaw that might not have hung the moon, but in a granddaughter’s eyes helped God set it in its place.
What are some things you remember from your childhood? Do you have special memories of your grandparents?