Remembering Faded Love.

For some odd reason, I began thinking of my grandparents this morning. By my desk I keep some old photographs of family and I caught a glimpse of this old man in a grey cowboy hat, my grandfather Bill.

Bill liked his high class fashion. In the summer he would show off his cutoff wranglers he made into shorts, boots, pearl snap shirt and straw hat. His legs were as white as snow. So damn funny to think about.

Bill could also be mistaken for being a chef. Nobody in the history of baking put more effort into a batch of sour dough bread than him. Although the real credit probably should go to my grandmother. She was the real brains in the kitchen operation.

I guess there are still parts of the world were cooking isn't a considered a chore of governed by convenience. It was never that way in my grandparents household. It was fun to watch them work, argue, and present a full feast. Sour dough bread, pork roasts, pinto beans, macaroni and cheese, green bean casseroles, and potatoes. Even though they had planned and done it a thousand times before, each meal seemed like it was achieved from the result of a hostage negotiation on television. You know it is going to turn out right, but there must be some drama first.

Stay tuned for these messages.

My favorite memory of my grandad is when he called up the furniture store in town where he bought his Lazy Boy recliner. He complained and convinced them to send a repair man out, because his feet would not touch the floor when he sat in it. The poor man came out and grandad made him saw off a quarter inch of the base so the problem could be fixed. The man did it and after completing the job, I never saw Bill so happy. He sat in it the rest of the day like a Roman consul; grinning, laughing, and calling people on the phone to brag about his coup.

The last time I saw my grandparents together, was while my grandmother was suffering in the last days of her Alzheimer's disease, we went to their anniversary party at an old steak house. My grandad was never in great health in his last 15 years of life. All I can remember about this night is the dancing. They were dressed up and looking sharp. Considering the health they were in, it was amazing to watch them glide and step across the room to the old Western Swing tunes. A Texas man and his sweet bride. I wonder is he knew how lucky he was to have her? I'm guessing he did. I miss them.