Pop

“Pop” passed away this week. He wasn’t my “Pop” – he was my son-in-law’s. And, he sure played a big role in my son-in-law’s life. I can’t recall a single conversation about his family that my son-in-law didn’t include something about Pop, which is quite something, considering my son-in-law is nearly 30, with a wife and a life of his own.

I only met Pop a few times; the things I remember about him were his wise, kind eyes – with more than a hint of humor in them – and, his deep, deep Southern voice. He had that kind of Southern accent the rest of the country wishes they had - slow, soft, rolling, no hint of a twang.

While I have only heard a little about the Pop who was the grandpa of my son-in-law when he was a boy, based on how close they remained, they must have had some pretty good times. There were tales of a trip to Estes Park, Colorado with Meme (Pop’s wife of nearly 60 years) and Pop; and, tales of time spent in their trailer on a lot in the mountains nearby. It sounded like there was always lots of good food and plenty of laughter and more than enough Tom-foolery to go around…

As an adult, my son-in-law would sometimes receive the gift of a shirt – one Pop had worn “back in the day” - that somehow fit his grandson perfectly, and had that hint of “retro” that made it a fashion find. Pop’s jackets and suits had the same effect, as they were doled out, with seeming perfect timing, as my son-in-law came of age, and became a man.

The week my daughter and son-in-law were married was full of sweet stories and gestures on both family’s parts. I remember, in particular, the excitement with which my son-in-law came over early one morning, carrying an old photo in an antique-looking frame. It was of Meme and Pop on their wedding day, and, young Pop bore a more than striking resemblance to his grandson, our groom, my son-in-law about to be.

“See,” he said with unabashed excitement. “I look just like Pop!”

Also that week I got to hear the story of Meme and Pop, from Meme. She said they were in the second grade together, and one day Pop brought his duck for show-and-tell.
“He had on short pants, and he was standing there, so proud, just holding that duck,” Meme said. “I knew right then, he was the one for me.”

They were sweethearts for 77 more years, with Pop passing on just before their 60th anniversary. She said Pop used to bring her funny little treats, like a bag of cherries or a piece of gum…maybe that’s why my son-in-law used to appear at our door, when he was still courting, with a single rose, or several gardenias, or some other pretty sweet-smelling treat – usually picked from Meme and Pop’s yard.

Men like Pop are the unwavering, ever present, cornerstones of families lucky and blessed enough to have such a guardian, champion, director and friend. And, men like these set such strong, solid examples that it is hard for their families not to follow in their foot steps and raise strong, solid families of their own.

These Pops, Grampas, PeePaws (or whatever they are called) are the first to offer a piece of candy or ask you to come sit in their lap, and the last person on this earth you want to hear a word of disappointment or correction from. Those of us lucky enough to have had such a force in our lives work hard to follow in those big footsteps, even after Grampa or PeePaw is gone. And, we miss them – their laughter, their humor, their gifts of old clothes and wisdom, for so very long after they’re gone.

So, rest in peace, Pop, and know that you affected so many, so profoundly – even those like me that barely circled around the edge of your life, and your family – were touched by the way you loved and were loved so deeply.

Some men leave a bigger hole than others, when they go; and, that is the case with Pop. Our hearts and prayers go out to each family that has lost their “Pop,” as it is a hurt that eases with time, but never, ever, really goes away.