#31 - PPD

#31 is my grandfather or Paw Paw Drew.  I can't say or type his name without a smile on my face.  It will be 4 years in March since he passed away.  Time has helped me to block out how hard the last year of his life was, and has helped me to reflect back on how much he loved me and how much I loved him.

When I was young, I can remember spending many Friday nights sleeping over at my grandparent's house.  Paw Paw Drew was always there, in his chair, ready to watch my dance performances.  When I was little, I sometimes was there when he came home on his lunch hour.  He always had a thick brown book with lots of tabs on it.  He was a salesman for Terrebonne Wholesale and the book contained listings of all of his customers and their grocery orders (I think).  He would spend some time after lunch, marking in his book with an ink pen.  I can remember him putting me up in the tree that use to be in the front of his house.  I remember the he loved to fish and to have the family over for BBQ.   I remember him planting his tomato plants.  Blake must have inherited his green thumb (how did that skip 2 generations?) and I wish he could see Blake's garden now.

As an adult, I remember him trying to teach me to cook.  I sat through 2 lessons (spaghetti and roast) before giving up and just going to join them for lunch instead.  (Side note:  The only two dishes that I really know how to cook are spaghetti and roast, so they must have been good lessons!)  I really miss those 11:00 phone calls to my office to ask me if I wanted to come and eat lunch with them.   I remember his heart surgery and how many times I told him that the oxygen mask  had to stay over his nose and not over his throat.  He would look at me with love in his eyes and pat my hand and say, OK babe, only to try to remove it again a few minutes later.  

He was always Paw Paw Drew to me and it wasn't until his funeral that I realized how many people called him John.  I never knew why.  I thought that John was his real name since my dad's name is really John Harold.  Turns out, his name was Andrew, with no John involved.    As the story goes, when he was a teen, he drove a produce truck which had the company name on the side.  It read John something? Produce  and so when people saw him driving, they called out, " Hey John" and the name stuck...  Weird how the name stuck.

He loved my boys.  Here is a picture of him with Blake.  He loved to throw the ball back and forth with Zack, and he loved, loved, loved to play on the driveway with "Set"  I don't think he every really understood what Seth's name was.  :)

I could end this post and make everyone cry, because the truth of the matter is, the entire family misses him very, very much, but instead I will make everyone laugh.  When I was in high school, my dad took Paw Paw Drew to play golf at Southern Oaks and he let me tag along. (Whenever I drive over the Dularge bridge, I think of this story)  Anyway, I was bugging my dad to let me drive the cart.  He finally let me drive, and he was co-pilot.  Paw Paw Drew was standing up, hanging on to the back of the cart where the golf bags go.  After a few holes, they got comfortable with me driving and I got comfortable in the driver's seat.  I remember going down the fairway at a pretty good clip, and then deciding to hang a sharp left off the path.  All I heard was a thump, and when I turned around, there was Paw Paw Drew rolling backwards down the fairway.  I did not laugh ( little lie).  I do not still laugh (bigger lie) everytime I think of it.  He did not laugh either (total lie).  I love you Paw Paw Drew and I know you are in heaven laughing too!