Theresa Andrews
Grandpa,
I've thought and thought how I could put into words what an amazing man you were. Its so hard because there are so many things that come to mind. Over and over through the years, as i grow and meet new people, when they find out you are my grandfather, the reaction is mostly the same; "What an amazing man...", "The nicest man I've eve known", "Do you have any idea what your grandfather has done for young athletes?", I heard that one a lot. Grandpa you volunteered every bit of your extra time to the sports you loved, yet you never shorted us on anything. You were there for us no matter what. When we'd had a bad time or felt bad about something that happened, you always had a way of adding a chuckle to a lesson that made us know we had learned and it would be O.K.
I was a horrible student in social studies. One year my father, who's favorite subject it was, offered me a hundred dollars if I could gt an "A" in this class. I did O.K. throughout the quarter, but when it came time for our final paper, I wrote it on you. You let a young child bring your purple heart to school and show it off; and tell your story of the "Battle of the Bulge". Your story of how close you fought with General Patton. I finished that class with a hundred dollars in my hand. That hundred could never re-pay you for the sense of pride, ambition, loyalty, and honor you passed on to us as your family.
In eighth grade I went out for track. My first real meet you came to. I'll never forget because you not only came but you were down on the track, watching. My leg of the race was the last of a relay. I was all cramped up from not breathing right and running as hard as I could to impress you. I can still see you standing over me as I lay in the grass at the end, saying,"You feel that pain? That's the feeling of winning."
You were always good for a story. As a matter of fact, for years I believed the cysts on your back were bullets working their way through from the war, that eleven children shared two matresses, and that your little red Volkswagen Bug could drive on it's own.
Some things that will always make me think of you: Apple trees, running shoes, tropheys, Volkswagons, stained glass, listerene, cough drops, garlic salt, bread and butter at every meal, soldiers, smiles, a tickle spot just above the knee, a man that would never put anything before family.
Some words I'll always remember you by: son, brother, friend, husband, father, grand father, great-grand father, coach, referee, co-worker, neighbor, volunteer, and most of all a hero not just to your country but to your family also, in more ways than we ever could have told you.
A lesson I have learned from you grandpa: Run one, Walk one. That's what you always said when people asked you how you learned to run. I'm taking that lesson to hert from now on and I'm going to run through all the bad days and walk through all the good. You just never know how long you're going to get to share the good times with the ones you love, that's why I'm going to walk those. We've all been blessed for whatever part of the last eighty-eight years that we've been able to share.
Thank you Grandpa. God bless you Grandpa.
For those of you that do not know, Grandpa is wearing his running shoes now. Everytime I hear thunder from now on I'm going to imagine it's the sound of your stride as you jog laps through heaven waiting for us. And the lightning, well that's just what's left in your path, because you were always the best.
Hugs and Kisses until we meet again.
-Theresa