My grandfather
..., standing straight and tall. A crisp white lightweight summer suit adorned his narrow frame. His hair, cut short, was pure white and thick, reminding me of billowing clouds. At 80 years old, my grandfather was still an elegant man. My grandfather’s given name was Wesley Ben Calvin White but to me he was just Daddy Wes, I can’t remember hearing him called anything else, except in church. My grandfather was an intelligent and innovative person; I am not sure what form of education he received, if any, being born in 1900. He was the first person in the neighborhood to have a real bathroom, done mostly by him and the first to own a television set. Usually dressed in starched green work pants with matching green shirt and finished off with suspenders, my grandfather moved with purpose and carried himself with respect. Even dressed in everyday work clothes he remained elegant, maybe it was the graceful way he moved his hands when he talking. He carried a smile for everyone, a smile that reached across his face and touch his eyes making them twinkle like the brightest star in the sky. Soft spoken, but forceful, he would teach or guide us, many times indirectly, and always with a smile. I can’t remember having a frivolous conversation with him, even though I was constantly by his side, we were always busy working on something. I never heard him raise his voice or seen him angry. He never had harsh words for my grandmother; they got along well and respected each other. As the day draws to an end, we all assemble in front of the church for picture taking. First, it’s my grandfather with his 11 children, that’s my mom, her brothers and sisters. Next, it’s our turn, all the grandch...