Ghost in the Graveyard

I never knew my dad's dad. He died before I was born. But I've always thought that I would have liked him. From what I hear he was a patient, thoughtful sort of man. My dad said that once when my aunt was going to spank her son for something naughty he'd done, Granddaddy (that's how we say Grandpa in the south ;-), shoved him under a barrel and sat on it so she couldn't get to him. *Giggle*

Yeah, I think I would have liked him.

But don't let his tender heart fool you. He could be strong and protective when necessary.

Which brings me to my second story of the week. This is one I often asked my dad to tell because it made me laugh and I really love the part Granddaddy plays in the end.

One night Granddaddy left all the kids and his wife home while he and his two sisters went out to collect honey. They were walking by the family cemetary which happened to be right next to a freshly plowed field. As they passed by the grave yard two ghosts rose up from behind a tombstone and booed at them. The sisters were terrified, screaming and carrying on. One of them fainted right on the ground. But Granddaddy kept his calm. Reached down and picked up a fresh clod of dirt and threw it right at those ghosts.

Well, ghosts must be afraid of dirt because they took off across that field as fast as they could. And one of them lost his sheet as he went.

I'm not sure if there was ever a confession, but I hear that my dad's older brother Troy, a teenager at the time, had a black eye that mysteriously appeared that night.

One of the things that has given me great comfort and peace is knowing that my dad has been reunited with his family—Granddaddy, Grandma, his brothers Dick, Eugene, Troy and his sister, Jean. Anyone who knows a Henshaw knows they love to tell their stories and I'm certain this one was laughed over when the big reunion happened.

And I smile as I picture it.