Grandpa's Day 2023 Pt 1

As I mentioned this morning, today was the 40th Anniversary of Grandpa's Day, the epic trip we took together two weeks before he died.

Earlier in the year I had planned to spend this week in Pigeon Forge TN with the entire family, but schedules - including that of  a new job for Lisa - torpedoed that dream, and as it turns out Lu and Smiley were out of town today and Lisa and I worked, so . . at first glance it didn't seem like there gonna be much of a day to celebrate at all. 

Plus the 2023 component lacked one crucial element - $$. I had thrown the complete balance of my checking account at bills the day before, and with payday being a day away, I had little to drawn on. Which, I admit, is pathetic.

So my plans were adjusted accordingly. I decided to visit the grave, then find something free to do with Junie, my only companion of the afternoon. 

Luckily I did have a jar of coins. Junie offered up her own spare coin bag too, and my mother-in-law threw $10 to the cause. Neither offer, although appreciated, was needed, as when Junie and I stopped at the bank to cash in my coin jar there was enough for the flowers I wanted to put on Grandpa's grave. 

But where to buy them?  This bouquet was at Outpost but I thought it was both a little busy, and a little expensive. 

Luckily we found a more appropriate bouquet at Groppi's. 

I recited some prayers at the gravesite, said my hellos, wiped away a few tears, then decided to show Junie around that old section of the VA cemetery. There are vets there from the Spanish American War, another who died the same year as Little Bighorn, and vets from the War of 1812 (although I couldn't find their graves today). 

Then, a first: Junie noticed the gate into the easement separating the cemetery from another was open, as was its counterpart. So we went exploring. 

Tucked beneath a tree, barely visible unless you looked, was a single grave, that of a young boy who died on his 6 month birthday in 1906. How terribly sad, not only to die that young, but to spend 117 years alone, with no other grave within 20 feet. 

I pointed this one out to Junie as we left: a female veteran of WWII - and Polish too!

"Slay," was Junie's response. 

Then it was back to my Grandparent's grave to share some personal updates on each of the kids, and to say another goodbye to them. 

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Then it was on to Part II of Grandpa's Day . . .