These are my Grandpa Nelson's wallets. the brown one I carry everyday. The second one sits in a jewelry box from his wife. Freda. My beloved grandma.
not sure who all these guys are. I know they are my cousins and the one all the way to the right is Uncle Jeff. The girl is for sure Chrissy, then Duane I think, and then Jeremy for sure (there are two of Jeremy, that's the one behind it).How did I get to be the lucky one to win Grandpa's wallets? Well, almost exactly two years ago, my Grandma, Freda Nelson passed away. August 22nd to be exact. The morning of the funeral, the Relief Society room of the chapel was lined with tables, covered in Grandma's jewelry and some of Grandpas trinkets. We covered our selves in her jewelry, and the boys got to go through Grandpas trinkets. After everyone tearfully rummaged, and claimed a part of our grandparents, there were few things left. I asked around, and everyone was finished.
Everyone had a turn.
I couldn't believe that these treasures were left.
Things my Grandpa used on a daily basis.
How could I not?
I got the wallets. His wallets.
Although my Grandpa passed away when I was six years old, I surprisingly have a very vivid memories of him. As do a lot of us grand kids. I remember he watched Mash, in the den, and he was short a few finger tips (or fingers) that the water pump claimed.
I always believed him when he told me the booger monster ate them though.
He named me Amy George. It stuck. Every letter from Grandma, and even still with our family, I am Amy George. It means more to me then he probably could have guessed it would.
I have a memory of him always singing this song to me. I have been told I am probably wrong and maybe even made it up. I have a memory of us standing in the den, and him singing "Amy, what you want to do". Real or not, I am going to keep it.
Best of all, I remember how he smells. Grease and oil, and dirt from work. It was in his skin. And if I breathe in real deep to smell the gray wallet, I can smell it.
6 comments:
You make an old man cry, I have those memories that come to the surface all the time, I loved my Dad so much, I would have never thought our time together would have been cut so short!
But, The paper mill is where I lost MY finger. Dad lost his fingers when he was about 18 months old.... In an old water pump for the house down on Stapley in Mesa. I am so glad that you keep him and Mom close to your heart, As do I!
Love you,
Dad
I miss them. I miss hearing Grandma's laugh. I miss rummaging through her kitchen with her trying to find something edible for breakfast. I miss driving to the store with her to pick up Coke.
Thanks for this George. Makes me smile with a tear in my eye. :)
Dad: Thanks for the correction- I changed it to the water pump:) So many losing fingers stories I just get them all mixed up. Ha. They are so close to my heart its crazy. I am so grateful for them. I love you Dad.
Bree: THATS where I get the coke thing. Haha. I miss her too. I miss the caffeine free diet coke in sippy cups on blankets in the living room. I can still hear her voice.
That Boy Scouts of America card is amazing. I would like to have it blown up poster-size and hung on my wall.
i love all the old stuff that gets left in wallets and such. one day we found an old suit of my grandpas (he died right after my parents were married) at my uncle's house and in the pockets were still his things. like the agenda for his man club (i don't remember what it really was) that he was in in vernal ut. it was amazing to see. it's like i knew him and could feel him just by reading it. i'm all about the sentimental stuff.
Oh Aft I loooove it!!! I always know you will get me.
Period.
Miss you. I hear you see Melinda a lot! So awesome.
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