Grandpa

He was always there, from her earliest memory, this wiry little man with the piercing blue eyes. Always wore the same outfit..brown khaki long sleeved shirt buttoned all the way up, brown khaki pants, brown hightop lace up shoes, brown thin socks with garters to keep them up and a tan fedora. The only varience was seasonal, boxers and undershirt in summer and a union suit in winter that flopped around his thin frame when he did a jig when he was ready for bedmaking a little girl roll with laughter. He could sit for hours in the back yard under the pecan tree and whittle or play his harmonica, watching his grandchildren run around playing after school. The evenings were spent playing solitaire or teaching the little girl to play dominoes if she was there. And she was always there, sitting at his feet, playing with his hands while he talked about the times of his youth and the family she didnt know. He made biscuits as light as air, allowed only lard in the house, claiming that Crisco plugged people up, and peeled pecans and walnuts for the holiday goodies with his pocket knife. He was a fierce protector, a kind, loving and patient man and he is missed. Happy Birthday Grandpa.