This super cute old guy is my grandfather. This picture was taken at a family reunion, which explains the giant plate of food in his lap. Our family strongly believes in eating ourselves sick while catching up with one another.

My grandfather is one of my favorite people of all time. I called him Big Daddy. He called me Annie Sue. He wasn’t perfect, but my little kid eyes never noticed. He was a combat wounded World War II veteran. He was opinionated and in charge. He was also weird. I think that’s the thing that I loved so much about him. I thought he was funny. He was like an ever present sideshow right there in the living room.  He ruled the world from his chair. He would talk to the TV. If he wasn’t watching TV, he would spend hours at the kitchen table playing classic solitaire. He seemed to always be talking or singing one of the crazy songs that I’m certain he made up. He was forever singing about John Brown’s mule or riding in the snow in his Chevrolet. I loved every second of it. I am pretty sure I got my weird and my odd sense of humor from him.

Today we went to see a movie. Not long after we sat down I was overcome with a familiar smell. It took me a minute to place it. I realized it smelled like the inside of my grandfather’s car. He had a white Toyota Celica Supra. He called it the Stump Jumper. I only rode in it a couple of times. The most memorable time was a trip I took with my grandparents. The air conditioner worked great and I shivered all the way to Florida. That trip, though, is why that smell is etched in my memory. My grandfather was a pipe smoker. To me the inside of his car smelled like new car and his special blend of pipe tobacco. It was delicious. I’ve not smelled anything like it until today.

So I’m feeling nostalgic about my grandfather. It is fun how a smell can open a memory capsule like that.