Happy Trails, Shug…

My grandfather (Grandaddy) passed away last Tuesday. He was 90 years old and sharp as a tack up until the day he wandered off to go home. I admired him for a number of reasons – he was in a tank under Patton in World War 2, he was a strong man who raised a passel of good kids that turned into great people, he was a musician, he liked to cook beans and cabbage, and he liked to tell stories and laugh and carry on.

But I think the thing that sticks with me more than anything, and the thing I admired the most was that he was thankful. Always thankful.

He didn’t have money – he retired from being a mill worker.

He didn’t have a lot of possessions. He lived with family for the better part of the last 15 years. He had photos and memories and little things. But not much.

He knew that what he had was much better than being rich or being famous. He had a family that cared for and loved him. He had his faith (I won’t get into that here, but that was the most important thing to him,) and he had the joy of waking up every day and being happy and full of life. Each day, each moment was a gift.

He certainly wasn’t perfect – but he had an understanding that each and every day was a gift. He lived that, and he showed that, and he professed that. If things weren’t perfect around him, you’d never know it to talk to him. Life was wonderful, and it was wonderful all the time.

I hope to find and live in that thankfulness. Some days, I do. Many days I find myself sluggish and unhappy and unsatisfied. That can be a fuel – but I hope to one day be able to fuel myself on thankfulness.

I’m thankful that I have a wife who loves me and puts up with my dreaming. I’m thankful for my 14 year old, video-game obsessed, wise-cracking and soft-hearted son. I’m thankful for my second boy, with his swords and bugs and books and giant imagination. I’m thankful for my daughter, and her backpacks full of stuffed animals and shoes and books and her little brown shoulders peeking out of her sundress. I have wonderful parents who bend over backwards for me, time and again. Great friends, great colleagues. Heck, I even have a terrific dog. The cat – well, she’s a cat – but I guess I’m thankful for her, too.

I’m thankful that I get to sit and draw and dream and design and tell stories through my art and my work.

I am thankful that I knew Grandaddy, or “Shug,” as he was known in his band.

Today, I will just be thankful.

Thanks, Shug. You’ll be missed…