In Memory

My Grandpa Kelly passed away over the weekend so I wanted to write a post in honor of him and what he meant to me. I have very fond memories of the time that I spent with him. Most recently with Jackson and what a kick he seemed to get out of him. I make an annual trip home around the fourth of July and I recall two summers ago watching him and Jackson sit on the front step of their house and do firecracker "poppers" - something I remember doing with him as a kid myself. Over and over Jackson would throw them to the ground in delight and then come running back to Grandpa who was fishing out the good ones from the sawdust like substance that they come in. Fishing was something Grandpa enjoyed and not just the fireworks kind. He would take us shopping as kids for the plastic worms that he used as bait. Always letting my sister and I have one or two worms of our own. We weren't going to do anything with them but we thought they were cool and he loved giving them to us. He would bait our hooks for us and I remember too the first time I saw him clean a fish in the backyard. He also had all kinds of contraptions to do things, most notably for me, smashing cans for recycling. We didn't have a lot of pop around our house growing up but for sure when we went to Grandpa and Grandma Kelly's house there was plenty of it, which lead to plenty of can smashing later. One of my very first and favorite memories of him was when I was really young and we had went to their house for a visit - probably in the summer. We had taken a bath and put on pajamas and I crawled up into his lap in the kitchen, probably for a bedtime snack that I'm sure we weren't supposed to be eating. What I remember is putting my hands in his and telling him "Grandpa look, it takes two of my fingers to be as big as yours". He had big hands - those of a really great football player and they were strong and tan, a contrast not lost on me even as young as I was at the time. Soon after my first child Jackson was born, a preemie, we took at picture of Grandpa holding him and I saw the contrast of those big hands again as Jackson's foot was the size of Grandpa's thumb. These memories and countless others like it are the things I am finding the most comfort in these days along with the peace that comes with knowing that God has graciously taken him into heaven and made whole the body that was so changed by his recent battle with dementia. No, now his hands are once again tan, strong, and looking like those of a great football player. I heard my dad had said recently "I don't know the name of the team, but somewhere in heaven, that team just got a really great fullback" and I would add - one with great hands.

He was always loved and will always be missed. I love you Grandpa!