Magic Man

My Grandpa Fred died yesterday morning.  I keep trying to think of something awesome and profound to say about it, but really it's just sad.  He was a man of few words, but when he spoke it always seemed important.  When he smiled at me with pride my whole spirit lit up, because I knew that what I did meant something to him and that meant the world to me.  Most of what I learned about him through the years came in equal parts from other family members and from the subtleties in his body language and murmurs. I can't describe why in any tangible way, but I always just liked being around him; it made me feel special. My father gives off that same vibe, and I've always hoped that it was a trait I also inherited. The one thing I definitely got from my grandfather was his eyes.  People joke that I have the eyes of Renee Zellweger, but in reality I have the eyes of Fred Grimes through and through. I also got his nose and chin.

By the time I knew my grandfather his life was all about car repairs and orange groves, but I've heard stories about the crazy adventures, careers, and odd-ball career offers he had in his younger days.  Like, apparently he was approached by the executives of Burger King back when the chain was just getting off the ground and they were practically giving away franchises.  The story goes, and I quote, my grandfather told them that "no one would ever buy a hamburger out when they can just make one at home."  Whoops!

I have always taken a lot of pride in my Florida roots, which may seem ironic considering how many posts I've devoted to my need to move three-thousand miles away from there.  If you've ever seen the movie "Away We Go" (which you should, because it's fabulous), the place they end up at in the end, the Huckleberry Finn childhood paradise, is what Grimes Road is like in Wauchula.  That's right, there's actually a street named after my family. It's just a simple dirt road, surrounded by orange groves and littered with the houses of every Grimes who has ever resided there.

When Great Grandma Grimes passed away at the ripe young age of 99 the road lost a little bit of its magic, but when Grandpa Fred packed up and moved across town a few years ago much of the charm was lost forever.  Now, with his death, it seems as though my Florida heritage has died as well.  Most of the elders are gone now, most of the groves have been sold or destroyed, and many of the younger family members have moved to bigger cities. It seems strange to say it, but I'm really going to miss having a reason to visit Wauchula.  Honestly, Orlando is nothing compared to the simple beauty of rural Florida. I will truly miss my grandfather, and everything his home meant to me.