Wee Wilson Tales

Well, for a long time now Jax has been calling my Dad "Hey." It started when we had all this remodeling going on at our house. I really thought he was just saying "hey" at first because he was saying it to all the workers at our house too. But it was pretty obvious that Grandaddy was "Hey" when he started saying, "Hey, Hey." Or " Dax wants to go to Hey's house." Or "I wuv Hey and Threese ." Anyway, you get the picture. Eddie had been given the name "Hey" despite his request to be called grandaddy. Here is the brief transcript of how it happened: 7/22/09, Wednesday a.m. Jax to John :"Hey, Hey's here." John :"Hey. Who's here?" Jax : " Hey's Here." John : "Oh. Hey is here?" Jax : "Hey. No. Grandaddy is here." And that was it. From that moment forward, Hey has hence forth become known as Grandaddy. I have caught myself calling him "Hey" ...

I have come to the conclusion that there isn't any way to prepare myself for what I feel when my kids get hurt. For, as much as I would like to change it, I am sometimes that over reacting mother when I see my child get hurt. You know the kind of mother that I am talking about...one that gasps so loudly that one might fear no air could be left in the room. It always seems like an overreaction no matter how dire the emergency might be. As I started writing this, it brought to mind a memory that I had tucked away some years ago. It was a Sunday afternoon just as church was letting out, and someone came running to the church building saying Eddie was just hit by a car. We lived across the street from the church, so my dad (Eddie, the grandaddy formerly known as Hey) would have been walking if he was hit. I remember seeing my grandmother faint...just before they said that it was Mr. Eddie Branan, not my dad. Mr. Eddie was injured, but he was hit while driving his car rather than as a p...