Paw or Papaw
I had the great pleasure of knowing both my sets of grandparents very well. They were all around as I "grew up", and I spent my share of time with them. That gave me the opportunity to observe two distinct behaviors in grandfathers.
Papaw (my father's father) was a good man. But, he never connected with children the way that my mother's father (Paw) did. Paw was forever picking at whichever child was nearby. But, Papaw was far too serious to engage in such behavior. His previous jobs (he worked for the Railroad, and then became a policeman) seemed to have locked him into "stoic" behavior.
Paw, of course, was loved by all children. Today, his behavior might even be reported as some kind of child abuse. If an unwary grandchild ventured too close to him, while Paw was reading his paper, he was likely to reach out and grab the unlucky trespasser and subject him/her to several minutes of humilating torture. He would tickle ribs, squeeze knees roughly (he called it a mule eating corn), and hold the child in what felt like a death-grip until we were in tears. Half the time, of course, those were tears from laughing. He showed no mercy.
During the summer, he was almost always working around his property in an old cotton button-up shirt (which was always unbuttoned, of course). Since he was an old farmer, he carried his work habits into his nineties. So, he was likely to be sweating from his physical labor. The ultimate humilation (saved only for his most favorite grandchildren) was when he squished the child's face up against his sweaty, extremely hairy chest, and asked if that child wanted some "titty pie".
As I said, in today's society he would have been accused of some kind of child abuse. But, it wasn't so. He was the biggest kid in the bunch. What amazes me still about him, was that he managed to be such a playful adult and such a responsible father and grandfather. He fathered 11 children. I don't even remember the number of grandchildren, but I know I always had a cousin or two around. He never let any of us down.
Papaw (on the other end of the "merry-meter") loved his children and grandchildren no less. He too provided for his family all his life. But, he never managed to turn off the serious side like Paw could. He respected the "space" of all his grandchildren--hardly ever touching them at all. He somehow became locked-in to the seriousness of earning a living, and wasn't able to really let go.
I proudly carry the genes of both Paw and Papaw. I loved them both. But, if the time ever comes when I find myself a grandfather, I hope I can behave more like Paw. I fear the Papaw genes are more dominant in me, but I promise myself to work hard at playing better with any future grandchildren. I was too busy providing to be a very playful father. Maybe, for any grandkids, I can find my "Paw side".
Papaw (my father's father) was a good man. But, he never connected with children the way that my mother's father (Paw) did. Paw was forever picking at whichever child was nearby. But, Papaw was far too serious to engage in such behavior. His previous jobs (he worked for the Railroad, and then became a policeman) seemed to have locked him into "stoic" behavior.
Paw, of course, was loved by all children. Today, his behavior might even be reported as some kind of child abuse. If an unwary grandchild ventured too close to him, while Paw was reading his paper, he was likely to reach out and grab the unlucky trespasser and subject him/her to several minutes of humilating torture. He would tickle ribs, squeeze knees roughly (he called it a mule eating corn), and hold the child in what felt like a death-grip until we were in tears. Half the time, of course, those were tears from laughing. He showed no mercy.
During the summer, he was almost always working around his property in an old cotton button-up shirt (which was always unbuttoned, of course). Since he was an old farmer, he carried his work habits into his nineties. So, he was likely to be sweating from his physical labor. The ultimate humilation (saved only for his most favorite grandchildren) was when he squished the child's face up against his sweaty, extremely hairy chest, and asked if that child wanted some "titty pie".
As I said, in today's society he would have been accused of some kind of child abuse. But, it wasn't so. He was the biggest kid in the bunch. What amazes me still about him, was that he managed to be such a playful adult and such a responsible father and grandfather. He fathered 11 children. I don't even remember the number of grandchildren, but I know I always had a cousin or two around. He never let any of us down.
Papaw (on the other end of the "merry-meter") loved his children and grandchildren no less. He too provided for his family all his life. But, he never managed to turn off the serious side like Paw could. He respected the "space" of all his grandchildren--hardly ever touching them at all. He somehow became locked-in to the seriousness of earning a living, and wasn't able to really let go.
I proudly carry the genes of both Paw and Papaw. I loved them both. But, if the time ever comes when I find myself a grandfather, I hope I can behave more like Paw. I fear the Papaw genes are more dominant in me, but I promise myself to work hard at playing better with any future grandchildren. I was too busy providing to be a very playful father. Maybe, for any grandkids, I can find my "Paw side".
posted by Busted Boomer | Friday, March 11, 2005
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