Audge : grandpa derricott

grandpa derricott

By Unknown 5/23/2012 Audrey, childhood, family, gospel, heartfelt, love, sadness, story, thoughts

I've been thinking about my grandpa lately. My Grandpa Derricott. He passed away about 7 years ago. It feels like it wasn't that long ago, but time has certainly passed by. I miss him a lot. I seem to miss him more and more, the older that I get. I miss being his little helper. I miss watching his strange cowboy shows with him. I miss him being around at Christmas time. I miss him being in his big blue chair when I go to my grandparents house.

I found this reflection paper that I wrote back in my junior year in high school about my grandpa (so don't judge the kind of cheesy language it had haha). It really brought back a lot:

William John Derricott, a.k.a Grandpa, was one of the greatest men I knew. He did everything in his capacity to help others and make them more comfortable. In his younger days he was a strong, hard working, and busy man. From working as a lumberjack, to a volunteer policeman, fireman, and co-owning a lumber store, he never stopped being productive. His yard always looked in tip-top condition, while his garden grew the best food in the west. But this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg. He and my grandma had ten kids, eight of which are living right now. His family was always the most important to him, and he would do anything in the world for them if it made them happy. One story that my mom has often told me and my siblings gives a glimpse of how much he loved his children. When my mom was four years old, she did what every little child likes to do, make their own sandwich. But in this case, she wanted to make it for her dad. So, with my grandma not knowing, my mom went into the kitchen to make the best possible sandwich she could. The ingredients are as follows: one third of a homemade loaf of bread, Peanut Butter, Grape Jelly, Molasses, Mustard, and Butter. It was her best creation yet. She called for her dad to come in and, with a toothy little grin, she handed him the paper plate with the disgusting, yet made with pure love, sandwich. And you know what he did? He ate it. He ate the whole thing. He did it because he would never do anything to hurt his little girl. He did it because he loved her. This is just one of the many instances where my grandpa expressed his deep power to love.

Towards the end of my grandpa’s life, his body began to catch up with him. His health began to deteriorate. At one point he developed Type II diabetes, forever affecting his life. His feet began to have circulation problems. His heart came next. He eventually had to have a couple open heart surgeries, and at times left leaving the whole family on edge. But one right after the other, he pulled through strong and recovered. As time went on, it became harder and harder for him to walk up and down stairs. Soon he would rarely get up from his big blue chair. But this did not dampen my grandpa’s spirits. Every time I walked through the front door, the first thing I would see was his smiling face and hand waving down in the haven. And to this day, that is something I have always and will always cherish.

The week following my grandpa’s death was a difficult one. The shock of the first day soon wore off, but then developed into sadness and stubbornness. I still didn’t want to give into the deep sorrow I was feeling inside, let alone show anyone how I was feeling. But the hardest part came when I saw my grandma. It was the day before the funeral. My mom, grandma, and the rest of the children, were going to go and dress my grandpa for the funeral. My mom asked me to come and watch my younger cousins at my grandma’s house while they were gone. Reluctantly, I agreed. When arrived, I immediately went into the front room, not wanting to face my grandma yet. I stayed as quite as possible—not wanting to be seen—until I heard my grandma ask where I was. My mom told her, and I soon saw my grandma come into the room. I noticed she was holding a long piece of paper as she sat down beside me. She held it up for me. It was my grandpa’s obituary. And on it, was the most happy and glorious expression I had ever seen my grandpa have. I knew my grandma was gently talking to me, but I couldn’t hear her. This is when I finally broke loose. The tears came down like a wave crashing on the beach. My grandma too began to cry and held me tight; telling me it was going to be alright. She let me sit there and get it all out, knowing it was the first time. Once I had subsided a little, she let go of me and went into the other room to get ready to go. That was the hardest moment for me during this whole experience. And it’s one that I will never forget.

The funeral was a beautiful one. Hundreds of people were there to pay their respects to the man that had touched their lives in some way. And everyone there could see the tremendous growth that had blossomed around him. But none of them, not even my parents, knew the growth that had taken place in me during this hard time. I became a stronger person. I knew now what it felt like to lose a loved one. I knew now how much I really loved my grandpa, and how much more I should have shown that to him. It was then that I promised myself to never hesitate to express my love for my family or friends. It helped me to understand my emotions better, and understand that it’s okay to show people how you really feel sometimes. And now I reflect to that time, and remember not what sadness filled me, but remember the great man that my grandpa was and forever will be.

I would put up a picture, but I'm afraid I would cry too much.
But the important thing that I always remember, is that I will see him again. And that he is watching over me and my entire family, helping us in whatever way he can. He's a great man, and I know he's in a better place.

P.S. Sorry mom, in advance (okay....i guess not really in advance) for making you cry. Because if I know you, which I do, it means your reading this and started crying in the first two sentences.

Song of the Day: Families Can Be Together Forever