After another lovely week in Little Rock (I better get back to real life soon or I'm going to be a spoiled brat), my grandmother and aunt came up from Ruston where my grandmother is staying for a while. My
grandfather's headstone was installed last week, and of course my grandmother had to come up and see it. My grandfather grew up in Clarksville, AR and my grandmother grew up in nearby Lamar, so we decided to make a day of it and spend some time tracing our roots.
First my mom, grandmother, aunt, brother, Alli, Riley & I met my great aunts and their friends at a restaurant called South Park which is basically a soul food place in Clarksville. I, of course, got chicken fried steak. How could I refuse? Afterwards we headed to the cemetery in Clarksville where my great grandparents are buried and where my grandfather's headstone is. His ashes were actually spread on the Big Piney Creek, but my grandmother wanted to have a marker for him as well. She, my mother, and my aunts came up with the inscription on it and I think it's about as close to perfect in describing this giant of a man as you can get.
I cannot believe he's gone. I feel like it's a shock to me every single day.
Then we went to Pawpaw's brother's house in Clarksville to visit. It's almost a blessing and a curse to go to Uncle Don's house. He looks and sounds so much like my grandfather that it's a kick in the gut. From his mannerisms to his deep voice right down to his teeth, he's every inch my Pawpaw's brother. So when you're there, you can almost hear and see Pawpaw again, which is wonderful and cruel all at once. I think I just sat beside Uncle Don and stared at him the entire time.
Afterwards, we headed to see the street Pawpaw grew up on, a street in Clarksville called Grandview that overlooks the bluffs. His house isn't there anymore, but you can see the lot. This is a dream street - think Washington Avenue in Fayetteville with old old homes, nice lots, and a better view. Afterwards we headed to Lamar to see where my great grandparents on my grandmother's side are buried. We spent some time going through that cemetery and even found one of our relatives who died in 1927 - at the age of 104! And I found a house for sale nearby for $35,000 built at the turn of the century. Be still my heart.
Then we headed to my great great aunt Kathryn's house. She's 89, red headed, and sharp as a tack. I walked in expecting to have to introduce Alli & Riley (and possibly myself) to her, but she didn't skip a beat asking if Riley was about two months old, if Alli was excited for school, and if I was going back to work. Her husband Milton wasn't there, which was disappointing - he's a real character. He's been a turkey farmer, a metal salvager, he's worked on using a propane tank to run his truck (successfully, albeit perhaps not legally), and Kathryn told us he's just bought a sawmill. As she put it, he has "too many iron in the fire." Kathryn was disappointed in her peach crop this year - only eleven quarts and "the varmints" got the rest. I come from country folk, y'all - great granddaughter of a coal miner and a logger. I wouldn't have it any other way.
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Alli with her great great great aunt - wowza!! |