Feb 20th marked 6 yrs since we lost Grandpa Wade. Sure doesn't seem like such a fine man has been gone 6 yrs.He was a strong man and loved us all no matter what. He was the next to the oldest of 13 kids and even though he wanted to stay in school so bad..it didn't happen. He was a dirt poor farm boy that met his "high city girl" as he called her..my Grandma :) He served in the Calvary as a sharpshooter (even teaching Eisenhower how to shoot!!) and as a POW guard. He had 5 sons by my Grandma and buried one as an infant and one as a grown man. He worked hard his whole life, farmed and was well known for his knowledge of wild edible plants and for raising the finest hogs you'd ever see. He horse back rode till in his 70s then his back and knees wouldn't allow it. He broke horses as a side job while working in heavy mechanics at Crane. He had broke his back, broke his neck, broke both arms, his leg, had 2 heart attacks, surgery for a 99% blocked neck vein and the man still got up every morning: breakfast at 6:30am, feed at the barn by 8am then to town by 9am :)
He's the one that taught me to ride and bought me my first horse (a blind Palomino I named Apple). When I asked him WHY he got me a blind trail horse his replies still stick with me today. "Do you love her less since I told you she's blind?" No. "Do you not have enough patience to deal with something that requires extra time?" No. "Do you think that eyes are all that horse needs to ride trails?" No Grandpa a good trail horse uses her ears to hear, her legs to stay strong and trusts herself to be able to put her hooves where it's the steadiest even when she can't see. That sweet horse was my trail horse till she died. I could ride her anwyhere, go any place and she performed perfectly every time. Grandpa taught me a lesson in life with a simple sweet blind horse.
I still remember the day he threw me the farm truck keys at 11 and said "let's go get a pop". My eyes were huge. I had drove the truck plenty of times helping load hay or haul feed from one barn to another etc. but NEVER past the end of our dead end gravel drive. "Granny will kill you" was my reply. "She won't know till we get back. Then it'll be too late right" he'd say with a wink. So into the seat I went, turned on the key and out the drive. That was the best pop that I ever bought at the Fayetteville Store lol
We'd spend a whole Saturday doing nothing but riding and talking. We'd stash a lunch Mom would fix for us in our saddlebags, put Poochie (Gramps little dog) in the other saddlebag, and off for the day we'd go. We'd laugh, stop and admire a view, watch the sun start creeping towards the western sky, then head to the barn. He taught me to always do my best and start off on the right foot (or the trail will be alot harder later on), make sure your prepared (or you're tummy will grumple half way through the day), if you make a mistake just learn,fix it and go on( if your saddle's belly buckle loosens up fix it and go on..otherwise you'll find yourself upside down LOL) and at the end of the day if you don't finish what you are doing..you'll regret it (you always clean,comb and dry your horse before putting it up or you'll wish you had!). Lots of lessons were learned on those trail rides. Being patient, finding the small pieces of beauty in life, connecting with nature/your horse/another human had so many benefits. I still to this day own the very first saddle I ever learned to ride with....
I spent most my summers in various shades of purple thanks to his ever handy medicine spray he kept at the barn. My brother says that is why it's my fave color ..I wore it so much lol He'd let us go on grand adventures, do things that Granny would freak about, and let us get away with just a tad more than Mom and Dad would...and probably throw in a can of Yoohoo from the feed store just for fun lol
When Grandpa got sick ..when he was in his 80s we knew the diagnosis was bleak. Terminal lung cancer. I still remember standing in that hallway hearing those words..and thinking that dr must be one dumb sob if he thought that was right. But later it sunk in. Gramps was a lucky one. He'd smoked since he was 12 yrs old and had never really been ill.
I'm lucky that I had 4 awesome set of grandparents. I can't remember a ton of gifts they got us..but I sure can remember the laughs, the lessons, and the love. They took the job of grandparent serious and they never failed. Kaya only got to know Granny and barely Grandpa Roberts. But I see so much of all of them in her and her actions. I miss all of them every day but I cherish not only the memories but the person they helped me become!! :)
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