My Grandparents

IMG_3329-2, originally uploaded by Ozziepuds.

Years from now, after I'm long gone, I hope that this blog will mean something to someone. There is very little I know about my great grandparents. I would have loved to know their hobbies, interests, hopes and dreams and daily life. I was fortunate in the fact that I had all of my grandparents until I was well into my twenties. In the same town, nonetheless. I loved my Papa and Papa Poole (my mother's parents) more than words. They never missed a ballgame, birthday, or milestone in my life. My grandmother didn't drive, interestingly enough. I remember us walking to McDonald's or Horne's BBQ from her house to have lunch. We would eat, then walk back. They accompanied our family on vacations. My grandfather was a very hard worker as a line foreman for Alabama Power. It's the only job I ever know he had, although I'm sure he had others when he was younger. My grandmother never worked. They took time with me to play dominoes and other board games when I spent the night with them, and I remember the beautiful pink roses that grew in their backyard. Or the farm and the horses my Papa bought us. And the fresh vegetables out of their garden. And Papa Poole's chocolate cake and chicken and dressing, which I still crave.

My father's parents and I were more disconnected, probably simply because I preferred spending all my time at the other set of Grandparents house. My grandfather was a TV repairman, and my grandmother held several retail jobs in ladies clothing shops and boutiques in Tuscaloosa. My grandfather was fun, and slicked back his hair with vaseline which turned it black (who knew?) He loved to play tennis and when he wasn't playing tennis he was usually watching it. My grandmother and granddaddy (the names I had for them) drank alcohol. Alot. Constantly. And while they were never physically abusive to me in any way, we just never really bonded. I didn't cry when they died. No unfond memories, but no fond ones either.

I want Payton to know all of this. So I blog. And Scrapbook. And I photograph ad nauseum. I want her to know so much about me, my family and our history. It's my gift to her.