Ray

While labeling Lydia's six month pictures this morning, I became overwhelmed with her name. Lydia Ray is named after my grandpa, Raymond Edward. All of a sudden, I had tears streaming down my face with a huge grin, just thinking about how proud he would be of my kids.

Grandpa died eight years ago, and a little before that time at a point when he was "complaining" that none of his grandchildren were named after him, I promised him that one of my kids would be his namesake.

You see, there was something special about him. He was manly. He was big and strong. He was strong-willed. He was set in his ways. He was the patriarch, and he was respected as such.

Yet he was never intimidating to me. I knew he would give me the world-- which to a 10 year old that meant Lucky Charms, Pepsi, or a buck for a "Big Mac."

He was a fisherman. He wore a handkerchief behind his neck and tucked in his ears to keep the gnats from bugging him. He hated pizza. He taped Young and the Restless when his bowling league interfered with it. He constantly worked in the yard. He liked to wake us up by tickling our lips with paper. He smoked cigars. The employees at Wendy's knew his order when he walked in the door.

These are some things I remember about my grandpa.

I so wish he could put Jonah "in the vice" or Lydia could sit on his lap.

He must smile everyday just watching his family. We surely smile when we think about him.