The Origins of a Name: Cain

My son WAS named after my Paw-Paw Cain. Rather than trying to reinvent the wheel, I'll let an OLD letter do the talking.

Paw-Paw was diagnosed with liver cancer on Christmas Eve 1996. On the night of Christmas, I sat down and wrote him a letter. I read this letter at his funeral in March, 1997.

December 25th, 1996


Dear Paw-Paw,

When y’all were out here over Thanksgiving, I got to see some of the poetry that Grandma has been writing over the past few months. I never realized that she possessed that talent! The other day, I happened to see the one she wrote about you. Needless to say, it stirred my memory and made me recall a lot of things that I never really forgot about, but simply haven’t thought about in a while. Since then, I’ve searched the old memory banks and, despite everything that’s going on right now, have cracked a lot of smiles and even giggled a few times. Let’s start off with some terms from my childhood. I remember hearing these every time I walked in your door:

“Scob Your Knob” - I believe that this preceded the more famous and more widely-used term “Noogie Attack”, but they are the same thing, aren’t they? You always told me that you were going to do it, but I don’t recall ever receiving a “knob-scobbing” from you. LAURIE was the executrix ofthose. Got her back, though. Both Cain and Leslie have received knob scobbings from me.

“The horse is going to bite the corn”: This one you DID do to me, more times than I can remember! If I was within an arms length of you, you’d reach over, grab hold of my knee and tickle me until I was laughing so hard that I’d almost be crying. I still remember them VIVIDLY. You will be mighty proud to know that this tradition continues. Every once in a while, when Ashleigh is in a pouty mood, I’ll reach over and grab her knew. It’s amazing how quickly that pouty mood goes away.

Fortunately, I was never given a “knuckle sandwich” or taken to "Fist City, buy I learned an important lesson, as I’m sure Hunter can attest: the hand really IS quicker than the eye!

I do have to admit to something. I may not be telling you something you don’t already know. I know where you used to hid the Bubble Yum or Bubblelicious. You used to make us close our eyes and we couldn’t peek while you went to the kitchen to get us some bubble gum. One night I made it my mission…I was going to find the hiding place. So late at night, I snooped around the kitchen and, lo and behold, I found a pack of Bubble Yum in the top of the cabinet to the right of the stove. That night was not without it’s danger, though. As I was standing on my knees on the top of the counter, I heard Jim coming in to make a Peanut Butter and Banana sandwich and nearly fell and landed on my noggin trying to get down before I got caught.

I remember spending the summers with y’all in Pensacola. Along with that, I remember having the occasional Saturday night fish fry. Or coming home from church on Sunday and you would go out to make hamburgers on the grill. I am a firm believer that you should patent your hamburger grilling technique because yours have always been the best.

We definitely hit the amusement park circuit when we were kids. We went to Disney World, Opryland and Six Flags (kinda funny that I live within jogging distance of Six Flags nineteen years later, hunh?). On fact, I dare say that it hasn’t been all that long ago that Grandma finally threw away those little fruit-shaped juice containers we used to get at the park. We carried them hundreds of miles home and drink Coke or tea out of them whenever we were there. And it wasn’t just the amusement parks that were loads of fun. Meredith Kris and I would bug you to death to take us to the park down the street. “We’ve gotta wait until it cools off a bit” you told us. You took us every evening we asked, though.

You always did everything for us all those summers. Take us to the park, drive Jim and me to the mall if it was too rainy to walk or fix a bike when it was broken. And it hasn’t stopped since we’ve become adults. You were there to fix the heater hose on my trashy Olds Cutlass when I drove it too hard and put a “Bra” on my Storm when I couldn’t figure the stupid thing out.

Although I’ve dwelled on my memories of my childhood, the most important memory of all is how patient you were with the girls and me (me, in particular) all those summers. You never showed that you lost your patience with me even though I’m CERTAIN that there were occasions when I wore out your last nerve. The example that you always set in your spirituality and love for the Lord helped to mold the faith in Him that I have today. And even though I never showed my affection for the men in my life as I did the women, you never loved me any less. Just know that I never loved you any less either.

I just wanted to take a moment and share these things with you. Know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. I’ll see you in a few weeks.

Your loving grandson,

Billy

Over the years, I've learned more about him and, as it turns out, my letter only scratches the surface. By no means a saint, he was truly a remarkable man.