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Sometimes as I passed Granddaddy on my way upstairs, I would observe Granddaddy praying. I can still see him now, his tall, large frame and brown bald head leaning, with his elbow resting on the buffet in the dining room. I could never understand what he was saying because it all
sounded like a loud whisper, a "sip, sip, sip" sound. But he always looked like he was in a serious and fervent morning prayer. During my childhood, I did not appreciate Granddaddy’s prayers because he was interfering with my last winks of sleep before getting up for school. But now that I’m a grown woman, I can appreciate this memory of my grandfather praying. I often wonder what he was praying—perhaps he was praying that God would bless his family. Perhaps he was praying for his grandchildren—that God would bless them to get an education and to go further in school than he had. Perhaps he was praying that God would get bless them to get jobs where they did not have to do hard physical labor like he had done.
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1 comment:
Dru, your rememberance of your granddaddy reminded me of my Uncle John and the way he drank his coffee..He drank his the exact same way. I gained possession of that cup and saucer after he passed on. hmmmm yougot me missing him again.
Vicky
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