13 years, has it really almost been 13 full years?!? Wow. In the words of Willie Nelson, “Gee, ain’t it funny how time slips away?” To answer Willie’s question, yes, it is funny how time slips away. I still think of my late grandaddy, whom I affectionately refer to as Big Ken, still to this day. I find myself wishing he was still here to see Brennen and I grow into men. I find myself running across pictures of him that I haven’t seen before. If he were still here, there’s no doubt in my mind that he would be beaming from ear-to-ear with pride as we are grown now and living on our own but we still live together, so I know that he would be proud to know that through all these years, we’re still just as close as we were the day that pancreatic cancer took him from us when we’re just eight years old. I try not to think about how things were during his last few months here, instead, me being the positive person that I am, I try to remember all of the good things about him and trust me, there were tons of good things about the man that stood 6’4″ weighing above 230 pounds. He was hard-working, when he saw a homeless person or a person in need, he helped them in any way that he could, he always went out of his family had everything that they needed and most of what they wanted, because when he grew up in late 30’s and into the 40’s he and his family weren’t as fortunate as we were. If I heard, ‘Son I don’t care if your the janitor or the CEO, just make sure you are the hardest worker in the building’ once, I heard it a thousand times. I didn’t realize what he meant back then, but now that I’m grown, I know exactly what he meant. He believed in treated people with respect, even if they didn’t treat you with respect. I never knew him to have a bitter bone in his body. He was always patient with us and sometimes I know I got on his nerves, but he’d just smile and “Boy, you ain’t right.” And I have to agree, in fact, even today, I’m ‘not right’ most of the time. Thank you, Big Ken for all of the great memories. Until we meet again, I promise to be the hardest worker in the room, and I’ll try my best to keep dad straight, I don’t know how you and Grandma Sherry did it for all those years, it’s harder than it seemed at eight years old. Take it easy big man, I love you.
Lately, I’ve found myself writing off the topic of sports and a little bit more about personal stories. This one might be my favorite. Earlier today, I pulled up Google Earth and searched for 7 Yankee Trove, where my late grandparents lived during my childhood. You might ask ‘Why would you do that?‘ Or ‘Why would you do that?Well, I didn’t do it just because. I did it because I wanted to see if one special structure was still standing in the yard since the home has different occupants now. Many of my childhood memories were made here, from playing “waiter” to playing baseball in the backyard with Big Ken and my brother to hide and seek around every inch of the yard, including the ditch and picnics at the stone table located in the backyard. The structure I was looking for was a bridge that Big Ken built for my brother and I in the early 2000s. We spent many hours, days and years walking across that bridge during my childhood. So I typed in the address and panned over toward the house on my right hand side, as I glanced at the house, I looked down and low and behold, the wooden bridge that my grandaddy hand-built, was still standing, the bridge named after my brother and I was still standing in the middle of the yard in what looked to be perfect condition. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but to my brother, my family, and myself, it means the world. It truly is life’s smallest things that hold the most weight and mean the most. Picture: Google Earth.