A few minutes after midnight on the first day of August....a new man entered.
A few minutes after midnight on the last day of August...this man exited.
Time marches on, and marches to a drumbeat that sometimes I have trouble finding the rythym to keep pace with the beat. Life catches me off gaurd, stumbles me to the ground, and I find that I am reaching out to those who mean the most to me and everyone else fades into the background.
He was the best grandfather I could have asked for. Once, when I was about 8, my cousin and I were cornered up against a tree by a rattlesnake. A few more seconds before that gunshot --well, I dont want to think about what would have happened. And there was our hero, tromping through the woods and grabbing us by the arms and hollering like we'd never seen him before. Never, never, do that again he screamed, and I cried, and Eric did too and we never told our mothers. I doubt they know to this day.
For some reason, when I heard the news today, I thought of that snake poised to strike. I thought about it over and over again, and of how he yelled for the hogs and the chickens to clamor around for food. "Su-eyyyy" he would cry to the hogs carrying a silver pail across a field that even then, I knew was beautiful.
Of mine and Eric's little voices: "Su-eyyyyyy...." echoing behind his cry as we marched behind in his muddy footprints.
How fast time can strike us into realizing once again, family is everything.
And I sit here, six hundred miles away.