Every time we take an extended car ride – long enough to be out of the city limits – there’s always something that reminds me of my Papa J, my paternal grandfather.
I think of him every time I see “weigh station up ahead” signs along the highway.
On our last road trip, seeing these signs hit me in a more tangible way.
I think of Papa J every time I see the signs because of a story I was told about him.
As we drove this last time, I tried to remember how I heard the story. Who told it to me? Did Papa J tell it to me? Or, did my dad? Sharing a story with me about his father?
I decided it had to be the later because in thinking about my Papa J, he wasn’t the “braggadocious” type. It didn’t fit his nature to share such a story. He was mild mannered and kind. So, so kind. I actually don’t remember him saying much. But, I do remember him always looking at me lovingly. He was the kind of grandfather you just wanted to run up and hug.
So, my dad must have told me the story.
Then, I wandered, do I know any other stories about my paternal grandfather?
The unfortunate answer is no.
As we drove, I could not help but wish I knew more about him.
The one story I remember, that I think of every time I see a “weigh station” sign goes like this… Papa J was in the home building business and he had truck drivers that would be transporting building materials long distances. Long enough to be on the highway where their load would be weighed. When one driver pulled through the weigh station, to have his load weighed, it far exceeded the weight limits. Apparently, it had rained and the load (I think roofing materials) had soaked up all the rainwater and became exceedingly heavy.
I remember the story being told with laughter – that this was a mishap, an unfortunate event. However, I do not remember an ‘ending’ or how this poor truck driver remedied the situation.
That’s what I think about every single time I see a “weigh station up ahead” sign.
My Papa J and the heavy load.
The story is what it is. And, I am grateful to be reminded of him when I am.
Yet, what I wouldn’t give to know more. To be reminded of him at other times – not just on road trips.
What if I could see him telling me the story?
Give the gift of sharing your stories with loved ones. I am living proof they will want to hear them.
Sending love,
Jody
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