In the early 20's a man was born named Earl Russel Smith Jr. He lived through the depression, went into the military to fight in WWII and came out unscathed. He loved his wife, kids, and the Redskins. All told he had jobs as a pilot, boxer, military police officer, and IRS Agent. He lived a strict life style and if you asked, most people would call him one tough S.O.B.
To me though, he was Pop-pop. He is the one who challenged me to eat as many strawberry shortcakes as I could at Country Cooking. He would give me bananas or black jelly beans because they made my hyper. He drove from VA to FL to help restore order to my life when my parents divorced. He gave me helpful advice on things such as football,cars, girls, and marriage.
A couple years ago when my grandmother passed away, it shook my grandfather to the core. He spent the last couple of years just waiting to rejoin her. He would say that grandmother needed him to accomplish some things first before he could see her. I guess he finally finished the list. Last night he passed away.
Losing a loved one is tough. Pop-pop was given 6 months to live due to his kidneys starting to fail. So I had opportunities to see him and tell him I loved him. This weekend Shayna and I were going to go down and visit him. Looks like we still are, just in a different way than we expected.
Off in the distance there is a slight sound. It can barely be heard, but it's the sound of drums. Indian war drums. That's my Pop-pop..pissing off Cowboy fans.