“If I were President, I would travel to Texas with my Dad….If I were President, I would help poor people & the Army with my Dad.” – Hannah Grisham

A lot has happened to me in the past couple of weeks and it’s caused a lot of introspection. I lost two grandparents exactly one week apart. This was hard enough to deal with as it is, but I also had to do it “alone.” Obviously, I had my other family members here, but it’s just not the same as being able to lean on my wife and kids for support. It’s times like these that you really take stock in the value of what you have.

Emily has been slowly sending me boxes of stuff so that there isn’t as much to transport when they move down here in July. I got a box today full of clothes, mail, and other assorted items. Among them was a small book that Hannah had made in school called “If I Were President.” The teacher had returned it marked “I like your book” and right next to that, Hannah wrote “Thanks!” and included a smiley face. The quotes above are from that book and reading them brought tears to my eyes again – tears I didn’t think I had left.

In the midst of such personal tragedy and sadness, I can’t help but feel like the luckiest man ever. Though Emily is not here to comfort me or provide a bosom for a pillow, she was still there on the other end of a phone line to just listen to her sobbing husband and let him just “get it out.” I don’t know how in the world I ever achieved it, but I married the most wonderful woman in the world. While she had to lower her standards dramatically, I married up for sure! She’s the love of my life and I can’t imagine how I made it before we met. I truly don’t deserve her and live in awe each day that she still chose to be with me. Every now and then I have to pinch myself to see if I’ve been dreaming all these years. And we were blessed with the best kids a father could ask for – straight A students and positive role models to their friends.

I lost my grandfather yesterday, so I want to honor him for a minute. I no longer have any grandfathers alive Edward Ray Grisham was one of the two that made me who I am. I wrote about my other grandfather on the You Served blog after he passed away (Here, Here, and Here). PawPaw Grisham wasn’t a hero and didn’t serve in the military, but I looked to him for other reasons.

Pawpaw was a third generational farmer. He was literally born on the farm and hasn’t left since. Temple is his home. Everyone that has lived in Temple for more than a few years knows the name “Grisham” because of him. And they all respect him. He was a man of his word, full of integrity and hard work. If he said he was going to do something, you could bet your life savings it was going to get done.

Growing up, I came to visit the farm nearly every summer. I would come by bus, or train, or the occasional flight. They lived in a modest home and I would sleep on the floor at the foot of PawPaw’s bed. He would always tell me to sleep with one open so that I would know if anyone was trying to steal eggs or break in. I can’t tell you how many hours of sleep I lost trying to literally “sleep with one eye open.” It wouldn’t be till I was older that I would come to understand what that meant.

Pawpaw was an early riser and early to bed kind of guy – provided there wasn’t farm work to do. Sometimes, we wouldn’t get home until about 9pm and then we’d go right to bed after showers. Out the fields, MawMaw would bring us Big Red or Dr. Pepper in the middle of bailing hay or harvesting crops. PawPaw got up at 0530 every morning and was out the door before the sun could come up. He used every minute of usable day (and some of the usable night) to his advantage. He built this farm from nothing and paid for everything but his first plot of land with cash. He didn’t like being indebted to another person.

He demanded respect and he got it. When us kids were out of line, he had a way of making life difficult by making us work in the one acre family garden, pulling weeds or picking peas (to date, the worst job on the planet in my mind!). But, he was always fair and treated everyone equally regardless of their social or economic standings. He was punctual to a fault. Don’t tell him you’re going to be somewhere at noon and show up at 12:02. HIS watch was the “official” time on the farm and no one argued with him about that!

He taught me to respect people, especially women. He had very traditional thoughts on societal roles and was a traditional woman. My sister didn’t really like coming to farm much because her place was in the kitchen or the garden while we went out into the hot, sweltering sun and worked the land. Her job was to help MawMaw bring us out food and drinks and that didn’t sit well with her. She wanted to help with the cattle and ride on the tractors.

He taught to always find humor in life. In addition to trying to get me to “sleep with one eye open,” he also had a bunch of other sayings that I now annoy my kids with. For example, when they complain that they bumped their knee or have a stomach ache, my reply is always a Pawpaw-inspired “wait until the pain goes away and it won’t hurt any more.” Even Emily absolutely HATES when I tell her that. But, that’s what PawPaw always told me when I was hurting and he was always right. When we’d wake up in the mornings, he “complain” that he couldn’t sleep because I slumbered in my sleep all night. I’d always argue with him that I don’t slumber in my sleep! He teased me for wearing “garments” instead of clothes. When I’d show up each summer with long hair, he’d call me Christine until I agreed to let him take me to Fritz to get my hair cut (Fritz died a few years ago and was the family barber). Then, I was a boy again. Each summer I’d lose hair and gain weight! He taught me how a horse eats an apple, which I’ve also taught my kids. I can’t explain that one, so just ask next time you see me.

Finally, PawPaw taught me not to take any crap from anyone. The Grishams are a hardheaded bunch and he was the king of the hardheads! No one was more stubborn than he was but that was because he knew what he wanted. I learned that you don’t have to compromise your beliefs to make other people happy. If they don’t like you for who they are, they don’t deserve to have you in their life. It’s that hardheadedness that I think has gotten me where I am today. It’s also gotten me into a lot of trouble with Emily . It’s that same stubbornness that forced PawPaw to continue getting in his truck each and every morning after his stroke a few years ago and he could barely walk. Though he couldn’t do the things he used to, he would hoist himself from his scooter chair to his truck and drive around checking the cattle every morning at 6:30. Then, he would head down to the shed and park under a shade tree and watch the boys on the farm do the things he used to love to do. Every now and then, we’d walk over to the truck where he was napping, half expecting to find he had already left us where he was most comfortable – in his white, 4-door Dodge Ram 1500 pickup under a shade tree.

I’m going to miss PawPaw, but his legacy lives on in his children (my uncles and aunt) and in me and my cousins. He raised a wonderful family of hard-working Americans who make the most out of life and don’t waste a good day. The Grishams are well respected in the area (except by politicians) because of him.

I have an eternal perspective on life and I KNOW that my PawPaw is now the happiest he’s ever been in life. He is looking down on his family and proud of what he sees. His body has left us, but his soul will forever live within us. His memory will never be forgotten. His hard work and determination remains alive and strong in each one of us he left to continue his good name. The world didn’t lose a hero yesterday, but it lost one of the greatest men in the world.

Each morning, he would pick up the local paper and the first place he’d turn to is the obituaries. Him and MawMaw would discuss a friend of theirs they lost and I once asked him why he looks in the obituaries first. His response? “I just want to make sure my name isn’t there today.” Today, it was…and he wasn’t there to read about it.