my great-great-grandfather’s name on my mother’s side was william osceola taylor. he went by ossie. he passed away in 1961, well before i could meet him, my mom was only 1 at the time.
my grandfather’s name was ossie taylor shackelford. he passed away in 2011. i called him grandaddy. he was an amazing man, and i miss him.
that’s where my name comes from.
and now my son due in just a few short weeks name will be ossie.
and here are two letters that i want to write.
dear grandaddy,
thank you. you grew up before the internet, you grew up working on a farm. you went to school to be a farmer. you changed careers halfway through your life and became an accountant regardless of the odds. you raised two amazing children, my mother and my uncle.
i remember certain things about you. i remember you driving to winston salem when i was a kid, and sleeping on our pull out couch in the living room. i remember waking you up, and not once did you ever do anything but smile and be greatful for getting to spend time with us. i remember when you came to town we’d always drive to pilot mountain, and we called it grandaddy’s mountain. i remember that we’d always drive 30 minutes out of the way from pilot mountain back home to virginia because the lottery wasn’t in north carolina and you’d buy a bunch of scratch off cards – just because it was fun.
i remember every christmas eve going to my other grandparents house, and then dad would drive 4 hours from like 9pm to 1am from winston salem to kinston and we’d do christmas morning at your house.
i remember that when i was a kid you always drove cadillac’s and talk about how they were the smoothest ride on the road.
i remember you owning your own business and having your own cpa firm – and working with farmers because that’s what you did and your family did.
i remember you were passionate about sports, particularly nc state sports. i wanted to go to nc state because of you. i did go to nc state because of you. i remember you telling a story of burning an outhouse on meredith’s campus with your fraternity brothers. i graduated from state exactly 60 years to the day after you.
i remember how important your faith and your church and the people at your church were to you.
i remember how much support you had for our armed forces and military.
i remember that you loved barbeque, and you used to have certain restaurants for certains days of the week. tuesday’s for lunch you always went to ken’s bbq. i believe thursday’s for dinner you always went to king’s.
i remember that no matter where we went, whether in your hometown of kinston or in winston salem or anywhere else, you always, always knew someone. someone would come up and greet you. you’d go talk to someone. it was incredible.
i remember us going to an ice cream shop and ordering superman ice cream. aka just bubble gum flavored ice cream that was colored red and blue.
above all, what i really remember is that you never raised your voice. it seemed to me like you never got angry, you were quick to forgive and even quicker to love. i remember you were smart, you read books, you wanted to learn. i remember that you cared for people. i remember that anything you could do for anyone you did it.
i don’t ever remember you talking bad about anyone. i don’t ever remember you drinking, cursing, or saying anything to anyone that wasn’t encouraging. i remember thinking that when i grew up i wanted to be like you.
and i’m doing my best.
thank y0u grandaddy. i love you, and i miss you.
love, taylor.
dear ossie,
it’s still a few weeks before i get to meet you. i couldn’t be more excited to meet you. to love you. to hold you. to have you fall asleep on my chest.
i couldn’t be more excited to watch you sleep. watch you smile. watch you grow. watch you learn, watch you be curious about the world around you.
i can’t wait for you to be my son.
i can’t wait for you to cry. to get upset. to comfort you. to fix it. to sometimes tell you to fix it yourself because it’ll make you a better person.
i can’t wait to hear you talk. i can’t watch you walk. i can’t wait to teach you how to ride a bike. i can’t wait for you to love fast cars and going fast just like your daddy.
i can’t wait to raise you. to watch how you interact and are loved and cared for and supported by your mom.
i kinda can wait to watch how much your grandparents spoil you…
i can’t wait for you to go to school. i can’t wait to see you be the smartest, the most good looking, the most athletic, the most talented person in the entire world, if you want to be.
i can’t wait for you to make your own decisions. sometimes they are going to be the wrong choices. but i promise to hold my tongue and let you make your own mistakes.
i can’t wait for you to have every opportunity, every possible thing in the world open to you, open to your dreams, open for you to go after and get whatever you could possibly want.
i can’t wait for you to be you.
i promise to always love you.
i promise to always be there for you.
i promise to do my best to not spoil you and teach you the value of a dollar bill.
i promise to push you to be you – but to be the best you.
i promise that no matter what happens, i will always be there for you.
i promise that love will always come before judgement or condemnation.
i promise to always take care of your mother.
i can’t promise that i won’t ever make mistakes. but i do promise that when i do i’ll admit to them and i’ll take responsibility for them.
i promise to raise you as best as i can.
i’m going to be honest with you – you have big shoes to fill. your great grandfather that you were named after was one of the most amazing men i’ve ever met. but i promise to never have expectations. i promise to never be let down by you. i promise that your life is your life.
i promise to always want the best for you. but i also know it isn’t my job to tell you what’s best for you. i can only advise and push you in what i think is the right direction.
this won’t be the last thing i ever write down to you. it’s just the first directly too you.
i love you. your mother loves you. we love you, and we love each other.
there’s nothing that can ever, ever, ever get in the way of that. nothing. i promise.
love, your daddy.
p.s. you better be able to read this before you go to kindergarten. i do have hopes and dreams for you 🙂
p.s.s. i just made your mom and at least one of your grandmothers cry.
