Grandaddy.

There is a man I call Grandaddy.

My dad has taken on this grandparent name as his own out of respect for the man that raised him. Georgia calls my dad Grandaddy, but he isn't the real Grandaddy. The real Grandaddy is slowly slipping away from us tonight.

The "real" Grandaddy married my grandmother after a man I never met left her with 3 children and never looked back. My dad was the youngest of the group at just 2 years old. Grandaddy and Nanhee went to high school together and the story is he always had a thing for her. He married her and spent the rest of his life supporting her three children, working multiple jobs at times and loving all of us SO much.

Every year since I can remember I have received a birthday and Christmas card from Nanhee and Grandaddy on my birthday and ever since Georgia has been around she has received the same. I always thought Nanhee sent these cards. A couple of years ago Nanhee was diagnosed with dementia. It got to the point that Grandaddy could no longer care for her at home so arrangements were made and she now lives in a full time care facility....yet every year I still receive these cards. Nanhee knows who I am from memory, but in person she has no idea. She is slowly loosing precious memories every day.

I never put it together until this year when my birthday card came on schedule this year just like the past 26 years. I guess last year I thought he just took the cards up to the facility and had her sign them. I went to visit this year and realized Nanhee could not write or sign her name if she wanted to. The hand writing on the cards hasn't changed. It is the same scrawly cursive writing I've read my entire life. Nanhee never sent the cards. Grandaddy has sent every single card to everyone every year. He has signed their names and made sure the card arrived on time.

This speaks volumes about the man who is loosing his life tonight. He gives me hope and has set an example for me that I doubt he will ever fully know.