My grandpa, Robert Thomas Storms was a treasure amongst men. We lost him Thursday night due to his body only being able handle 90 years of being awesome.This man stormed the beach at Normandy in WWII, and survived to become a house mover, a milkman, a beloved father, husband, and grandfather, and to preach the gospel for over 45 years.
I remember him helping us to capture wild rabbits with a box and a string tied to a stick, cutting up cantaloupes from his garden and making watermelon rind pickles. He would help us build and outfit our little girl forts with flowers and pop tarts cut out of peg board, and we would balance coins on the railroad tracks and come home with the warm, paper thin disks in our pockets. He would take walks every day, returning with his pearl snap shirt stuffed with old cans he'd cleaned up off the roadside. Both Jesse and Ruby's middle names are 'Storms' in his honor, and he would smile if he knew that 'Tacks, the boy disaster' dedicated a song to him the night of his funeral at a dirty rock club in downtown Austin.
He was strong as an ox, laughed easily, nursed my ailing grandmother for years and raised up a damn fine daddy for me. If it's true what they say about storing up riches in heaven, I can't wait to sip divine coffee with ambrosia salad in the palace gardens of New Robert Stormslandia.
I love you Grandpa!
I remember setting up grocery wares in our fort playhouse where Grandpa and Grandma Storms would come "shop" for reasonably priced pegboard pop tarts. We were only mildly scolded for borrowing supplies from the Quaker church they pastored. Please note the purple-streaked lizards on display in the 'sink'. Need to visit the facilities? No problem - 5 gallon bucket and curtain at your service. I love you too Grandpa!
ReplyDeleteWe DEFINITELY got in trouble for the bucket toilet, even though Amber was the only one who availed herself of it.
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