A Tribute to Grandpa Jack

This post is in memory of Grandpa (May 30, 1922  - July 3, 2013) and all that is quintessentially "Bouldin" in my mind.  He will be dearly missed by his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and friends.  I am so happy that he was able to meet Phineas this past spring.

I was reflecting this week on what I am going to miss about Grandpa (and Grandma as well) and the list is long (and I know incomplete), but I wanted to share it.  I think it all started when I heard the cicadas starting up outside.  They make me think of camping, Missouri and the Ozarks, and of course Grandpa.  It makes me think of all of the wonderful summers we spent camping out at Big Bear Campground, roasting marshmallows, singing campfire songs, listening to Grandpa's many engaging stories, and sitting in the stillness under the stars all while being serenaded by the cicadas (or jar flies as I know some in my family call them).  Those memories then make me think of being out in the boat, fishing with Grandpa, and listening to past epic fishing tales involving my dad and Uncle Tom.  I remember Grandpa was always ready with a song that he knew all the words to.  There was a song for every occasion.  I swear I'll never be able to remember as many tunes as he did.  I admire his dedication his church and his faith that he lived out daily in his actions.  I will miss Grandpa's sense of humor that accompanied each of his stories and his fun-loving, light-hearted attitude that always got everybody to laugh.  He was a master craftsman and engineer, designing everything from gadgets around the house, to (I'm going to claim it) the very first pop-up camper, to even his own house.  I also learned from him how to perfectly seal a box for mailing, because packing tape was never enough.  You at least needed hot glue as well.  He deeply loved and cared about his family and always had a big hug ready when we arrived.  He is the first person that I remember finding after falling and splitting my knee open while camping in the Ozarks.  And that is a very comforting thought to me.

I am so glad that he and Grandma passed on so many of their wonderful qualities, interests, hard work, determination, and brains to the rest of the Bouldins so that none of these things that I am so grateful for in them are really gone, but they live on in the generations that he passed them on to.  I know that he is at peace and is back with Grandma where he belongs, because I can't really imagine one without the other. Just like a peanut butter sandwich is incomplete without the jelly, well... he was the jelly to her peanut butter sandwich.  

I'll remember Grandpa when the cicadas sing their song, when I'm fishing, when I eat a bowl of Golden Grahams, when I'm camping, when I hear a good story or an old tune or hymn sung just right, when I build a contraption (which happens way more often in this family then you'd think), and whenever I'm in the beautiful country of the Ozark Mountains.  I feel so blessed to have had such amazing grandparents and am so proud to be a Bouldin.  I love and will miss you Grandpa.