THIS SHELL IN MY POCKET

Adam Jones

I carry this shell in my pocket to help remind me,

of a man who was my hero and always will be.

He taught me how to change my oil, replace a starter, and change a muffler.

To kill a snake, back a trailer, and mow the grass in the summer.

He drove me to school always asking, "Where's your hat kid?" and "What did you learn today?"

He took me fishing and told me stories of his youth, growing up in the valley of the Smoky Hill.

Moving the livestock when the flood came and the work that a normal man would kill.

Many tales of his time in the Navy in World War II. The typhoons that could wipe out an island,

the judo lessons and basic training where he visited the theatres and rode roller coasters on the sand.

When I got older he tried to scold me with a grin after I learned about 2WD in the mud the hard way.

He taught me to make ice cream, party mix and that GM made the best trucks on the road.

How to use a chain saw and then to the dump where we went often to haul off a load.

My Grandpa taught me many things, the greatest is actually quite simple, how to live.

To work hard, always put your family above all else, and no matter what, if you have, give.

Grandpa gave us everything he had. He was never too tired, too broke, or too busy.

He was always there with the jumper cables, the right tool, or an encouraging word for me.

The shell I carry is from his 21 gun salute. A more deserving man you will not find.

I still carry this shell in my pocket, though there is no need.

For my Grandpa is in everything I do, my heart, and my mind.