Memory Monday: Grandpa Mayes

One of my resolutions this year is to blog about some of my memories at least once a week, hopefully on Mondays so I can keep the title of Memory Monday. Anyhow, I thought I would start by writing about a few of my memories about my Grandpa Mayes. He died when I was in 2nd grade. I remember that Aunt Claudia came to get Kenneth from school because he had died. I kept waiting for my mom to come and get me, but she never did. She later said she didn't think that I would understand what was going on and didn't want to take me out of school for it.

Grandpa was sick the last couple years of his life with cancer. I remember him being in a hospital bed in the living room. Us grandchildren were too young to really know what was going on, except for the older few. I remember one particular time when we kept running in and out of the house. Someone pulled us aside to tell us the grandpa was really sick and needed the quiet in the house. I think that was the first time I really got how sick he was.

Some of my memories of being with Grandpa were when I would spend the night. One time in particular we were going to eat dinner and it was time to say the prayer before eating. It was Grandpa, Grandma, and me. We all bowed our heads. I kept expecting one of them to say it. I probably waited a good 2 or 3 minutes before I spoke up asking who was going to say the prayer. They both chuckled and teased me that they were waiting for me to say it. He was a jokester that way. (I don't remember who actually ended up saying the prayer.)

He loved to work in the yard. There are pictures of me helping him in the garden, even though I don't remember doing it. I do remember him flooding the yard with well water. Us grandchildren thought it was so fun to run through it barefooted. It was so cold we never did last long.

I remember sitting on their old brown and orange couch that was next to the door in anticipation of him coming home from the body shop. He would always come in and say, "Howdy, folks." I thought that was the coolest saying and wanted to remember it so I could say it when I grew up. His hands were always looked dirty because of the work he did on cars. I remember when he came home from work he would wash his hands before he did anything else. I remember watching the dirt and grease come off his hands and wondering how they still looked so dirty all the time. He always had dirt and grease under his fingernails, too.

I remember sitting on his lap one Sunday at church. I put my head into his suit coat so it blocked out the light and I ran my hand over the walls (it was that prickly hay stuff that the church used to use). It was soothing and I fell asleep like that.

As a whole family (cousins and all), we used to go to Five Springs for picnics. There are pictures of us looking at fuzzy caterpillars that Grandpa had on a stick. I think there was one time he scared us by growling behind a tree and jumping out at us. (I can't remember if it was him or Uncle Lloyd. They're both pranksters, so they both could have done it.)

Like I said before, I don't have too many memories of Grandpa Mayes, but I do remember the feelings that I had around him. I don't ever remember being scared of him, even though he was a big man. I know that he loved my Grandma very much. I remember the way he used to talk to her and he didn't let us talk back to her at all. I look forward to when I can meet him again and get to know him as an adult.