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The Man they called Bill
semperfidni
The man they called Bill. He was definitely no ordinary man of this world. He was different, complete, sarcastic, and most of all stubborn. How to explain his religious views? That's a tough one. He was more into God, than the people you see in church these days, this is no lie. The stories he told would prove it to you too. If you walked into his house, the first question he would ask was "do you know who Jesus is, or do you believe in Jesus Christ?" If you didn't, you sure did when you walked out those doors. He believed in the word, and he loved God with his whole heart.
His real name was Carl William Whited. He was born and raised in Rich Creek, Va. His birthday is August 22, 1929. This man was not only my grandfather, but more over the term my "best friend". If I had a problem he was always there. Not just to comfort me, but to make me laugh.
When my parents divorced, my mom and us four kids moved right across the street from them. The distance consisted of no more than 200-300 feet from each others door step.
Writing about this just bring back memories of the old fart. ;)
One time, my mom, my sister, and I were sitting on their couch. My grandfather of course was in his chair. The phone began ringing, and my grandfather picked it up, and said, "Hello." I was staring at him wondering who the heck could he be talking to. All of a sudden, my grandfather says, "Hold on just one minute. I'm so mad I could eat fried chicken, now if you call back again, I will fart in the phone." My mom and I started cracking up so hard, we were in the floor laughing. Well this is after we dropped our mouths at what he had just spoke in the phone. He then winked at me, telling me it was just one of those old recordings. He was the biggest hoot I'd ever met. He always said, "If your butt itches, well then scratch it. Even if it's in public. If you got to fart, then let em' rip."
He meant every word he ever said. There were times the ol' man made me cry, maybe just once or twice or three times, nothing that made a big deal. I just never wanted to hear what he had to say, because I was hardheaded.
He would always sit and tell stories of his brother Laroy, not Lee-Roy, but Luh-Roy. He was raised on the farm like most of the old folks these days. He talked about walking home to school from the school bus or from the school house. His brother and his brothers friends always had it in for Bill. My Uncle "Bunt", Laroy, would beat the snot of my grandfather. One time Bunt was sitting on him, after they'd knocked him to the ground and was choking my grandpa. Papaw said, "If I could have reached that rock that was laying close by my hand, I would have grabbed, and I would have killed Bunt that day." But he didn't. Times changed after that. They never really got along, but they dealt with the fact they were getting older and things needed to change.
Papaw always called his cell phone, the radio. He would always watch baseball games on tv, or watch shows about trains. See, he worked on the railroad since he was about 19 years old. He worked there till he was about 60. My grandma, Virginia Love, lived in the same area he did, but they both had dropped out of school, so they didn't know each other real well. My grandma's friends dared her to call up my grandfather one day and invite him to church. Papaw said he'd be there. He didn't lie either, he had a real far walk to the church, but he made it. My grandma was in shock too. They began dating, and got married when they were both 19, on Christmas day in 1948.
My grandfather taught me how to play rummy. I still remember that old roughed up pink stool my grandparents had. We'd pull it right over in front of his chair, and I'd sit on the old muggy colored looking carpet, while he sat in his chair. We'd play cards for hours on end, using that stool as our table. We'd always play to 500. He taught me every trick in the book to rummy, when you're floating, when to call out rummy, when to lay down a hand, just the simple rules that helped you win the game. I may have won once or twice, but of course he usually always out beat me.
His favorite holiday was Easter, he loved it more then the kids did. Every Easter, he'd wake up early before church, and hide eggs. Some had money in them. If you found those you were pretty lucky. At the end of finding all the eggs, the children would count up their change. Papaw always dug down into those blue dickie pants pockets of his, and made sure each grandchild had roughly the same amount of money as the others had.
Every time I would walk through that sliding front door of his, he stuck out his cheek. I knew what that meant, he wanted his usual sugars on the cheek. So I'd kiss him every time. Gah, he had the best hugs known to man. I still remember sitting at the kitchen table, and asking Papaw to hand me the sugar. He definitely didn't hand me the sugar, he came up to where was sitting and kissed me on the cheek, and said there's your sugar. I laugh at it to this very day. Of course, he did eventually hand me the sugar bowl.
Him and my grandmother decided that they would get the walkie talkies that went up to about 10 mi in distance, so when papaw went out, he would have those along with his "radio". Well one day, my mom and Papaw had the walkie talkies out playing around with them. This dude came across them and said who's this? Papaw said, "this is ol' John boy." The guy said, "where are you?" Papaw said, "out behind the barn." That guy kept on a talking, and my mom came on there and said something. That dude liked to have had a cow through those walkie talkies. He was like there was a woman on here the whole time? They had a ball out of messing with this random guy on those hand held devices.
My grandfather loved to camp. If it would have been up to him, he would have sold their house and moved away in their camper. They had their house built about 49 years ago. My grandmother still lives there, and she wants to die there.
His mother, who lived in Honaker, VA, grew to be very ill in about 2003. Her great grandson, Landon, had come home from his visit to California. He raked her leaves, and were going to bag them up, and put them at the trash pick-up. My great granny was so uptight, that she wouldn't even let him bag the leaves. So after he left, she decided to burn them herself. She tripped on a log, and fell into the fire. Her legs being most surrounded by the burning flames, she couldn't pull herself out. She was an 92 year laying in her front yard, with no neighbors home, laying in the fire screaming. She laid there for almost three hours, before any one found her. After that, my grandfather took trips to stay with her. He helped her out, like a son should do. In 2005, she was in taco bell, with my grandfather's sister Charlotte. They rushed her to the Emergency Room, because she had had a stroke. She had never really been ill or hospitalized till then, besides when she got third degree burns. She laid there for two weeks. She died March 20, 2005. She was 94 and 3 days old. My grandfather was having to be carried out of the funeral home. It was a sad and depressing time. Two months later, on May 27, my grandfather felt magnificent. He took my grandmother yard saling that day. Everything was alright. Then my neighbor Nancy needed a screw driver, so he walked out to his building and got her one. When he was walking back up his porch steps, he fell, and had a lot of pain in his chest. They finally rushed him to the hospital. They ended up calling code blue, and shocking him back to life. He had suffered two massive heart attacks in just the time scale of one hour. They rushed him to Roanoke Memorial Hospital to put a stent in his heart blockage. They later ended up putting a pacemaker/difibulator in to keep his heart beating on track. My mom, and grandmother drove to Roanoke everyday, and back for three straight months.
They finally brought him home, but his health was never the same. He could hardly leave the house, without taking his stroll along oxygen tank again. He didn't get to camp again either. They eventually sent him back to Roanoke to tighten a screw in his pacemaker, but they put him to sleep. After that, his health treaded even further down hill. He would have to take regular visits to the hospital so that they could draw the fluid that was building up around his lungs. Toward the end, they started drawing liters of it at a time in just the period of a day. He came back home in August 2006. He was put on best rest, and Lincare to care of him. He laid in that hospital bed for weeks. I still remember everything from 4 years ago. He would hallucinate, beat the wall at night, and tell people to shut up outside. There was nobody really outside. He just "heard" them. One time, he told me to move the blue basket that was like in the floor, you just had to go along with what he told you to do. Then he had this dome, like the capital building, piggy bank. It was filled full of quarters. He requested that I count the quarters, because he "had" a $100 in it. When I counted, he only had $99.25. So I went around the house, and found three quarters so that he'd have his exact $100. That made him happy. He also said he had a quarter in his pocket, so mom always put one in there so he wouldn't get mad that it had gone missing. I never expected to be 14 years old, and seeing my grandfather lying in a hospital bed in his own home.
We went to my dads every Thursday. So the 21 of September in 2006, I was getting ready to head to school, and I was going to my dad's that day so I went down there to say good-bye.
Well he began bugging me, and asking why wasn't I at school. Wasn't I going to be late? I was like no papaw, I am about to leave, I just came down here for my kisses.
I went to my dads that afternoon. The next morning, we made our usual route to my dads parents, and hit the sack for an extra hour and a half of sleep, before we went to school. I hear the phone ringing in the kitchen, and my dads dad answering it. I was like, hum wonder who could be calling at this hour. My grandfather came in there and said girls your dad just called. Sorry to be the one to inform you, but your grandfather passed about 5;23 this morning. He said that dad said we didn't have to go to school if we didn't want to, but we did. Catherine, my sister, and I were trying to eat a little breakfast, even though I really don't eat breakfast. My brother, William, came into the kitchen and saw that my face was flushed red, and Catherine was crying into Papaw Crosiers arms. Will asked what was going on, and why had Catherine and I been crying. We explained. That was the hardest day of my life.
I still remember I was hyper at the viewing service. The day of his funeral, I couldn't hold myself together. I miss him dearly. Mom said he had said he was only going to live three more days. When the pastor came to see him, he told them that he was waiting to see someone. The only person they could think of was my Uncle Bunt.
When my great grandmother passed away, Bunt, and my grandfather would call each other 2-3 in a day, everyday. They grew closer. So mom called up Uncle Bunt, and told her what they believed. She told him, he was the only one papaw hadn't seen in a while, they he needed to come visit. Uncle Bunt showed up that Thursday night. Mom said papaws face was a glow, that they knew they'd found the answer. The next morning when papaw passed, Bunt packed his clothes and left. He was in so much shock. He came back to visit, for the funeral and such.
My grandfather was the best. Two weeks before he passed away, he said there would be a big incident happen, like a shooting, while Bush was still president. Well about 7 months later, the shooting at Virginia Tech happened.
Just knowing that he's not here, to support me, and help me when I get a boo boo. Because he always doctored my sores. He was my own special doctor.
Daniel, my love, always reminds me how much he wishes he could have met my grandfather. I know my grandfather would be very happy in the choice I made in finding the "perfect" boy. I wish every single day, that Daniel could have also met him.
Just knowing my grandfather isn't sitting in his chair to push out his cheek for me to kiss. He's wasn't here to watch me graduate, and to receive my diploma. He's not here to watch me one day walk down the aisle. I always wanted him to give me away. Deep in my heart he will be the one giving me away. He's not here to watch me raise my kids. He always cheered me on, and said I'd make something of myself. When I'm doing something I stop and think of him, and if he would be proud. When we go to gospel singings and blue grass, I remember him singing. It still lingers on to this day. Him and his omnicord, boy was he good at it.

He's my guardian Angel in heaven. He's better of where he's at, walking the gold path. He's sitting at the right hand of the father. God needed him more than we did.

I miss you papaw.
08-22-29; to 09-22-06. ♥



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Wow Carah, that is wonderful! I bet he is looking down from Heaven right now, smiling up a storm. Seriously, this made me tear up.

<3

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