A couple weeks ago, Levi and I packed the kids up and took them on a plane ride to Tennessee. There we would introduce our children to their Mamaw (my dad's mother) for the first time. After he passed away, the family decided too much time had gone by since we all gathered together. So we decided to do a family reunion.
What a long week it was. It was great seeing my dad's side of the family, especially my Mamaw. However, we were ready to come home by the end of the week. The last time I was on the roads we drove down, was with my dad during our trip to Tennessee just a couple years earlier. My Mamaw had been sick and in the hospital. Since we didn't know if she'd pull through, I made the decision to accompany my dad who would be going to see her. I do not regret one second of that trip I took with him. I loved seeing him "in his element" which he definitely was when among his siblings and mother. His smile, laughter, jokes.
During that trip we worked together as a team to improve Mamaw's house some. We scrubbed and cleaned; he crawled under the house and fixed the set up for the dishwasher; he installed the faucet I bought. All while spending what precious little time I unknowingly would have with him.
One of my fondest memories from the trip with him, was on the drive back to the airport when it was time to leave. My cousin was driving us to the airport and the song "From the Inside Out" by Phillips, Craig & Dean came on the radio. We sang it out loud together. That song now reminds me of that trip and that special moment with him praising our Lord.
On this trip, when I'd drive by certain things I'd remember having first driven by it with him. Just knowing he'd once been in that place was a comfort yet also painful. He was born in Jellico. I thought he loved it there, but my mom told me otherwise. He wanted out. I don't blame him. There is so much brokenness there. So much poverty, addictions, and a general attitude of having already given up on a better life. It's beautiful as far as nature goes, for sure. But the people all seem to be downcast.
While visiting my Mamaw and my aunt, there were moments I could see my dad in each of them. Their mannerisms, the way they talk, jokes they tell, looks they give all are incredibly similar to how he did things. Again, it was a comfort to see that and remember him but it was also painful. I wonder if they see him in themselves as clearly as I did.
Sometimes when I'm missing him, I look at and rub my hands. They are not like his, but my skin holds part of him in it...in my DNA. It's like he's not completely gone. Part of him remains in me. I try to see if my face holds any similarities, but unfortunately, only our blue eyes are similar.
It has gotten late and I'm unable to think of any clever way to wrap this up. So I'll just do it. The trip was well-worth it and I hope our kids will remember being able to go there and see where their Grandpa lived as a child. I would've loved to have him with us. His presence was definitely missed.
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