A great man died today...

A great man died today. A man I not only owe my life to (literally), but a man who taught me so many things about the world and who helped me become the person I am today. You won't find him in the history books and beyond those who were lucky enough (and I truly mean LUCKY enough) to have actually met him and spent time with him, many won't realize how tragic of a loss the world has experienced.

My Grandfather George Lee Buck, who was more commonly known as Jack, Dad, Grandpa, or Pappy to those around him passed away after close to a decade of fighting cancer and infections. As strong and humbly as he dealt with those battles, it's many of the other battles in life that I'll remember him most for. It's all the lessons he taught me, ever so patiently in his calm and quiet manner that will go on in this world. It's the values and skills that he taught me that have made me the person I am today and that I will hopefully be able to pass onto another generation who will go out and make an impact in this world.

You see, my Grandma was the epitome of a hard working American. One of the good ole' guys who didn't expect the world to give him anything for free, who knew that to earn and get anything you had to go out and work for it - and not just work for it, but work HARD for it. He had the scars, calluses, and other marks to prove it. He fought in World War II and later went on to become the farmer that I remember him to be. I'm sure there are many other things he did in his life that I know nothing about, but these are the things I remember most about him.

From a very young age I loved to spend time with Grandpa. The summers I got to spend at my grandparents house were wonderful and are some of my dearest memories. Even the sweet, sweet smell of Grandpa - it's some combination of soap, aftershave, sweat, grease, oil, and nature. He woke up with the sun and was always working. He worked with his hands and worked hard. You could almost always find him in the garage covered with sweat from head to toe working on something. As busy as he was, he was always willing to show you how to do something or to let you help - and sometimes even happy enough to walk away and share in life's simplest treasures such as catching roly polys or crawdads - and on very special occasions partaking in our tea parties of Grandma's wonderful sweet tea, Orville redenbocker popcorn (that I never could get to taste as good as it does when my Grandma makes it), and cheddar cheese on the car port.

Grandpa, being from the military followed a specific schedule. Breakfast was nice and early - I can't remember the exact time at this point in my life since it's been so long it seems now, but if I recall correctly it was around 7:30 or so. As a child I was a morning person, so I'd wake up to enjoy breakfast with Grandpa. Oh how I valued that time. Sitting at the bar in the kitchen drinking carnation instant breakfast with a twinkie. At least that's how it was most of time. Every now and then we'd have eggs or something else and Welch's grape juice. I remember once Grandpa cooked and made SOS - Shit on Shingles he called it (holy moly I think my Grandfather actually used a curse word once that I know of!). He learned how to make it in the military he said. I think Grandma had an early appointment or something that day and I was lucky enough to be there at that moment to experience Grandpa's cooking. To this day I don't think I've ever had something like biscuits and gravy that tasted so good. And I don't think I've ever seen (or heard of) Grandpa cook ever again.

Lunch, or dinner as he called it, was always served promptly at noon - except on Saturdays when it might stretch to 12:30 or 1. Lunch was another special thing around the house. It was always beans on an alternating schedule - butter beans (Lima beans) one week and then brown (pinto) beans the next - or at least as long as they lasted during the week. We'd have them with bread, cheese, and sometimes summer sausage. Again, Saturdays were special since the beans were usually gone by then and we'd get pizza or something else depending on what Grandpa felt like. After lunch, there was always a nice home made pie - and I mean home made - from scratch. Grandma is a great cook and Grandpa always let her and everyone else know that. She also spoiled us all and usually had two pies or at least a pie and another option and she tried to make your favorite. I always loved pecan pie. Grandpa just liked pie, although I'm pretty sure besides Mississippi mud pie that he got on his birthday that apple or cherry were his favorites. We'd eat dinner and watch the news. I have those recipes that my Grandma sent me. They aren't as good as when she makes it and will never taste as good as they did eating them with Grandpa, but at least I'll always come close to this when I make it.

If we were lucky, after lunch Grandpa would read the paper and read us the funnies. He'd take a short nap usually and then if we were REALLY lucky, he'd have gotten enough done in the morning that we could go out and have some real fun. It might be driving to one of the pastures to check on the cows, going fishing, visiting a friend, or running errands - It didn't really matter what we were doing, just that we were doing it with Grandpa. It seemed like my Grandpa knew everyone and everyone knew him. And everyone loved him it seemed. I don't recall ever seeing my Grandpa in a quarrel with anyone or anything for that matter. One year when I was in fourth or fifth grade I had a project for school I was working on during Christmas break and Grandpa spent the entire afternoon helping me build a semi truck from scratch. We got a Colgate tooth paste long rectangle box and a small Tylenol box. He helped me glue them together to make the cab and trailer. Then he helped me fiberglass resin it so they were nice and sturdy. Then we painted it. Then, he helped me make axles and wheels so my truck would move out of a maple tree limb and random parts he had around the garage. It took us all afternoon and it was the coolest thing I recall ever making. I remember going back to class and being the only person who actually made it from scratch - a lot of other kids didn't even have one and no one else's was home made and actually moved - my darn truck rolled and everything! I'm pretty sure I still have that truck at my mom's house somewhere - with as much resin as it has on it it might survive a nuclear attack. That reminds me that I need to find that somewhere...

Dinner (well, supper as he called it since lunch was dinner) was always around 5:30. And there was always gravy - Grandpa ate gravy on everything - even spaghetti! And I'm not talking red sauce as 'gravy' as the Italians up here in Rhode Island call it, I'm talking creamy gravy. So there'd be pasta with red sauce and meatballs and he'd put good ole' cream gravy on top. Grandpa would drink his sweet tea and enjoy his food. After supper we'd have pie or some other treat again and Grandpa would again lay on the couch and watch the news.

After supper was the best time. Grandpa always had time for fun then. Whether it was playing cards, checkers (we even had a Chinese checkers board), going fishing, etc. it didn't matter because it was fun because Grandpa was there and his smile lit up the world. He had the type of smile that warmed up a room. Very wide and contagious. You couldn't help but feel like everything else in the world was perfect and okay after seeing that smile. Nothing could go wrong or be wrong in its presence. And his laugh - I kind of wish I had a recording of it now because I can almost hear it in my mind, but just not quite. It's been a while since I heard his real laugh as it just wasn't the same after the cancer wore him down. Such a wonderful, heart warming laugh.

Grandpa taught me how to drive. And not just drive, but to drive a manual. He parked me in the bottom of the big dip in the drive to the pond where we used to always have our family reunions and got his fishing pole and tackle box out of the back and walked. He said when I could get out of that dip both forward and backward and come and pick him up I'd be good to go. I can't remember how long it took me to get that little Mitsubishi pick up out of that dip, but I did and he was right - I was good to go.

Grandpa is the reason I went to school for marketing. He'd take the time to look at my writing and my drawings and would ask me what I wanted to do in life. I told him I wasn't sure....he said I should look into marketing...and I did...and he was right...I like it. I always wanted to make him proud and I hope I did.

Grandpa never lost his patience and he had a great way of teaching you all of life's important lessons without lecturing or talking down to you. I learned the value of hard work, morality, truthfulness, loyalty, care, nurturing, and so much more from him. I learned about working with my hands and working with the soil and animals. You see, Grandpa never coddled me because I was a girl - he let me help and taught me about things. It's why I'm not afraid of worms and bugs. And it's why I know a lot of what I know today and why I'm not afraid to try and do things with my hands or even try try and do things at all - I'm not afraid of failing you see. Failure is just a chance to learn and to try harder to get it done.

Selfishly, I really wish that my daughter would have had a chance to meet him and learn from him like I did - or at least know how great of a man he was. But I think I knew it wouldn't happen as sick as he's been lately and the more rational part of me is glad that his suffering is over and he's in a happier place now where he can work as much as he wants without pain and without worrying about the weather outside. I was really hoping he would at least last until my baby was born so he could know her name and know that we are naming her partly after him.

I also wish I had more pictures of him - especially from the good times. You see, like me, Grandpa didn't like getting his picture taken so there aren't that many pictures of him that I know of. I have a few myself. I do have some of his military photos from the 50's and I have to say I can see why my Grandma fell in love with him. I don't like to look too much at the recent photos as that's not the way I want to remember Grandpa. I like to remember him from the good days when he was strong and happy. When he always had sunflower seeds in his pick up to snack on from when he quit smoking...yet another battle he won.

A great man died today. For the few who might read this, you probably won't think of this again after today. For me though, I wouldn't be here without this man - his blood flows through my veins (we share the same blood type ironically), the sparkle in his eye is also in my eye, and the orneriness that we shared - all of this will go on in me. I can only hope to pass this on in my daughter and hope that from time to time he can and will look down on us and smile that wonderful smile of his, knowing how wonderful of a job he did being a Grandpa and great man and knowing how much of an impact he had on our world.