Grandfather…

Grandpa Smith died twenty-two years before I was born.  I only ever heard stories and saw a few pictures.  He was a rancher, a citrus man, and a country preacher.  He did well for a period of time.  In addition to the ranch, he owned a packing house, a house in Tampa, I believe, and traded cattle back and forth.  But he made the mistake of trusting a man he knew well in a cattle-deal, and took the man’s word for the number of cattle he was buying.  Turned out they were running the same cattle by two or three times.  Then came the Great Depression.  If you think these are hard times, they are nothing compared to the misery of no one wanting to buy your cattle or oranges and having to borrow on your son-in-law’s life insurance policy to pay taxes. 

Grandpa Smith was a diabetic before synthetic insulin.  He was supposed to watch his diet, but he didn’t.  Decades after his death, I spoke with Mrs. Anna Cowart, who nursed him when he got bad.  She told me he would empty the sugar bowl in his coffee, stir it, and then spoon up the coffee/sugar mix (Hey Starbucks, I have an idea for you).  Diabetes and heart disease killed him at sixty-one.

Grandpa Clemons, my mother’s father, was a character – and that’s putting it mildly.  Granted, his early years were hard.  He was “turned out” at age 9 and told to go make his way in the world.  He started as a cook on a dredge in the Kissimmee River.  He not only had to cook the food and clean up after meals, he had to go ashore and kill a deer or a turkey for supper. 

He took a job with Irlo Bronson and took most of his pay in cattle.  At the height of the depression, he somehow secured a thousand-dollar bill.  He’d go to a country store, buy groceries, and then try to pay with that thousand-dollar bill.  Of course, the store wouldn’t have nearly that amount of change in the drawer.  The owner would usually extend him credit.  Grandpa would start running a tab.  When the tab got close to that thousand-dollar mark, he shifted to another store, and started the process over.  Believe me, I know that’s not right, but he got a lot groceries out of that thousand-dollar bill.

Grandpa Clemons was known to disappear from home for months at a stretch.  Sometimes he was off trading cattle or horses in Texas; or organizing and promoting a rodeo; or competing in a rodeo; or just off somewhere doing who knows what. 

He bought the Okeechobee Livestock Market with a partner and set my Uncle Pete to run it.  Somehow, he got started in earthmoving and had a construction company.  With a third-grade education he did all the estimating for how much dirt would have to be moved and how long it would take.  In his own way, he was a genius.  He started with nothing and ended up a wealthy man.

I spent a few days with him growing up, but he was not the kind of grandfather who got on the floor to play with you or take you to Disney world.  He once promised me a waterfront lot in Buckhead Ridge when I got married, but apparently, like a lot of his promises, he forgot that one. 

I became a grandfather recently.  My son and his wife have a new-born son, Shephard Alexander Smith.  Because of COVID, I haven’t seen or held him yet, but I will soon.  Already I want to reach through the phone and snuggle him.

I’ve been a father for about 30 years now.  The jump to being a father-in-law wasn’t that far.  Being a grandfather is a whole new role.  I’ve tried to learn from other grandfathers in the past years about what I’m supposed to do. 

As I understand it, Grandfathers are supposed to spoil their grandchildren, delight in them, do their best to secure their future, build them playhouses, be there for ballgames and dance recitals, offer wise advice, and pinch hit so parents can get some rest.  I think I am up for the job.

It strikes me that though we think of God as our Heavenly Father, there are ways in which he is like a Grandfather.  Our Heavenly Father spoils us with grace.  He delights in us, in our joys, successes, when we get things right.  Our Father has secured our future by offering Jesus as payment for our sins.  He is building us a heavenly home.  Through the Holy Spirit, our Father is there for us, at ballgames, dance recitals, births, weddings, divorces, heartbreaks, and every up and down life brings.   He gives us wise counsel in His word.  When we are exhausted, he is there to give us rest, all of us who are weary and heavy laden. 

Maybe I have a pretty good model for being a grandfather after all.