Grandpa in bed

One wonderful memory was when I was pretty small. I'm not sure how old or how often this happened. We spent the night sometimes with Grandpa and Grandma Sacry. We would climb into bed with Grandpa in the morning. Grandmpa would bring us a tray full of coffee. Of course, if was not much coffee: about a 4th coffee, half milk and a 4th sugar. Then we would sit on the bed and drink it with Grandpa and Grandma.
When I remember this I feel delightful laughter.

One day Grandpa and Grandma were in bed. He always kept a pistol in a holster on the bedpost where he could reach it. He said, "Cora, hold still." He laid his weak arm over her and shot. The mouse that had been sitting on the top of his dresser fell into her open underware drawer. Boy was she mad! It was a good story we all laughed about for years. Even Grandma laughed later.

The hardest part of Grandpa in bed was when he was sick. I knew from earlier stories that Grandpa had almost died before. I don't know how many times. Once with a perferated ulcer. He said when his fever was so high he dreamed of the creek up the South Boulder canyon and had a hard time passing that stream without stopping to get a drink for years after. Toward the end of his life we would come home for vacations. One time especially, I thought he would die before I returned. He was very sick and I was told he might not live. But, he had escaped death so often that no one ever knew for sure. I would gently kiss and hug him, feeling and smelling this man I loved so fiercely as he laid in his bedroom. Then climb in the car and cry alot of the trip home. And he would live. And I was glad. I still feel his presence in the front bedroom of the Ranch house.