And then later he decided that the beard would come back. It seems that everything drifted from the top of his head to the bottom.
Arlo did enjoy acting the part of Santa. The children of the area would come into Conejos County Gas and Oil and whisper to each other and point at Arlo. They were discussing whether he was the "real" Santa.
It was natural for the younger generation to hop on pop. He did enjoy children on his lap. He loved to have them come and say that he was Santa.
8 comments:
How nice. I wish I would have know Grandpa longer. Good thing we have eternity to get to know each other.
I remember some grandchildren who also expressed the desire to find out if Grandpa really was 'Santa'. I know where some of those white whiskers went too... right Nett.
I remember grandpa played Santa one year at the church and I wanted to announce to the entire place filled with excited kids that Santa was MY grandpa!
I remember your Christmas announcement. I really was embarassed.
I think that one of the reasons Dad wore the white beard for so long was that he thought it covered his mouth of missing teeth.
He got his teeth pulled while Donnie was on his mission. I think the family finances kept him from investing in dentures, perhaps he just got used to not having teeth.
I remember one day that Dad took a bet about his toothless mouth. Someone brought in a beautiful delicious apple and bet him that he couldn't eat it. He pulled out his pocket knife, but the bet was to eat the apple without a knife. He took the bet.
His face turned red and he had beads of sweat on his forehead. He ate the apple and won the bet. He told me afterward that he wouldn't do it again.
Dad could touch his lower lip to his nose. With no teeth he could close more than most people.
I am sure that the beard was a fad that dad had.
He did like to have the children recognize him as Santa.
One of the counselors in the bishopric now calls me Santa.
The thing I remember about sitting on Grandpa's lap was his wide, rough fingers. He would scratch my back for hours. It was one of my favorite things, I remember Gary complaining to my mom about liking my back rubbed, she attributed it to Grandpa spoiling me. And bottom line no one could do it like Grandpa, those callioused hands gave it just the right feel. (see my comment about the beard in Kents log) Fond memories!! I even have Grandpa old cigarette lighter with the black leather cover. Oh, and his copper braclet.
Just yesterday in scouts we had a conversation with the boys about calluses. I told them that I used to have heavy calluses that I could carve them and not feel anything. When I worked in the garage my calluses were heavy and would crack. Sometimes the cracks would go deep and my hands would bleed. The gasoline and oil did not help things.
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