The Button Jar: Torches and Tears

Last December Megan and Hilary nominated their grandfather to be a torchbearer for Pulaski County. Gary told him they had nominated him, but he didn't know that he had been selected before he died on March 31. Because we were told that only one person could walk in his place, Megan walked alone to honor her grandfather. The day was warm, full of sunshine, a blue sky spotted with white clouds.

I am not sure if anyone were not crying as Megan approached our group, went to Grammy, and kissed her while holding the torch and a picture of Grampy. I know I was crying as she rounded the curve and walked the path, following the motorcycle of the Indiana State trooper who was leading the procession.

Grampy has been on my mind so much these past few weeks. And it's not just because of the Torch Relay. It is harvest season, and we miss him. Last fall he and Grammy insisted on hauling the grain to the elevator, then could only last for a few loads when they needed to stop for a coffee break....then a rest....and then they would wait until the next day to resume their drives from the field to the elevator. After farming with his dad his entire life, Gary is so used to talking to him about everything connected to the harvest. Even though I try to converse with him and be there with him, I am a poor substitute. It just isn't the same.

Then there is Grammy and her health issues. He was so worried about her, and I know he would be very anxious about her current condition. She has lost so much weight; she is wasting away to nothing. He hurt so much when SHE hurt. I can still hear him say, as he was sitting at the kitchen table when we were taking her to White Memorial in the ambulance in February. "Don't let anything happen to Aggie. She is my sweetie. Please don't let anything happen to my sweetie." So sad. So very sad.

The plan was for the girls to push Grampy in his wheelchair during the relay. I can see him sitting there, I can see him wearing the torchbearers jacket, cap, and shirt. I can see him look down, shake his head, and look up with tears in his eyes as he glows with pride for his granddaughters, humbled by his selection for this great honor.

He was with us yesterday. As I told Megan on the drive back from the picture taking session on the courthouse lawn, he is with Auntie Ann and Uncle Bud and Grandpa Norm, up in heaven, looking down on all of us as we watch the relay, beaming with pride and saying to my dad 'That's our granddaughter. That's my Meggie."

Torches and tears.