Grandaddy

Isn't it interesting what we call our ancestors and parents! My mother called her father Papa, and her mother Mama. My brothers and I said Mama and Daddy. My kids say Mom and Dad, or in teasing, like their southern cousins, Da-ah-dee. By his children my grandad was called Pa. Their mother was Ma. My mother always thought it would be nice to be called Mother and Grandmother. I am sorry I never did that, since it was important to her. My brother's children, however, having been raised near her, have done as she wished. My girls were much closer to their western cousins and called them the same, Grandma and Grandpa. I don't think my parents appreciated it.

I think my dad must have said something to his father when he came to live with us, like"Don't ever lay a hand on my kids!" There were times when I am sure he wanted to, but my dad had seen enough of cruelty when he was a child.

I don't think I was a problem child, just extremely active. Once I climbed up into a young peach tree, and got my foot stuck in a notch. My crying brought both my mother and my grandfather. His advice was, "While she is stuck up there is the time to teach her a lesson." He cut a whip and handed it to her. She whispered for me to scream like I was really hurting, but she managed to hit the tree much harder than she hit me. I shall never forget how he danced around, like someone cheering at a ball game, really excited to see me suffer. "Hit her hard! Hit harder!"

Grandaddy lived with Uncle Walter as I was growing up. He formed a very close attachment to their first boy, Elmer, became the baby's caretaker, and when he was old enough to take on the buggy with his pony, Toby, at the reins they were a pair of travelers. Uncle Walter said Elmer had no chance to be disobedient, because he was never away from his protector. All of us were glad it was Elmer he liked best instead of us.

My grandfather died in 1945 from a condition called locked bowels, probably diverticulitis. My own father shared the same fate, and after suffering in a coma for a week after he was hospitalized (first time in his life) the doctor told me that he had probably had a stroke in a colon muscle which had paralyzed activity in that section of the colon, a situation which could have been fixed easily at Duke U. hospital, which was less than two hours away. Since I never have pain, or at least a very high threshold, if I get that condition, I will know what it is. I just hope I am not in the middle of the ocean

My grandmother did not go to Grandaddy's funeral with all of us. He is buried beside his first wife, Ida.