Not around much

The older man in the middle is my grandpa and my children's old papa. He was born in 1919, was a devoted husband for 54 years before he was widowed, a loving dad, brother, granpa, and great grandpa. He was a decorated war hero, and when I say decorated I mean decorated. He was loving, compassionte, and ruled with an iron fist. He lived through the depression, slavery, equal rights, and he lived to see a black man become president. Not too many people can say they have seen such change in their life. He was a special person in my life. My children loved him. I loved him. God loved him too and called him home Thursday morning. The 15th. The same day my baby turned 2.

You will never been forgetten, selfishly missed but never forgotten. I know right now he is tending to the roses. He always told me that my grandma would come to him in dreams and tell him how beautiful the gardens in Heaven are. She told him that he was in charge of the roses but they had not bloomed yet and when they did he will be called home. His roses have bloomed, they have to be the most beautiful and colorful roses I have ever seen because he would never accept anything less.