I think I was probably the first grandchild to call him Grand-daddy. Back then, the first crop of us grandkids we were taught him to call him Uncle Melvin, but he was the only Grandfather I knew and at some point in my life I decided that it just felt right to call him Grand-daddy. He never told me not to, as a matter of fact he seemed to enjoy it, so.... I did! Life has a way of moving us onward and sometimes that means a-way, but I've never forgotten sitting in his lap as a child and reading the Saturday morning paper (though I couldn't actually read) or his excitement over showing me a new computer program or gadget in his saw-sharpening shop whenever I would visit after I grew up and got married. Then there were the warm hugs he always gave each time I came over. I loved him and he loved me. That was enough. My memories of him are sweet and I look forward to the day that we all see him along with the rest of our loved ones who have already passed. RIP Grand-daddy and if you have time while strolling through the golden streets of paradise please find Mama and tell her we said Hello and that we miss her too.