They say there are three sides to the truth. The first person’s side and the second person’s side with the truth lying somewhere in the middle. I also believe that perception is reality. I will attempt to tell you about one man’s truth or his side of the story. Up until this point, I’ve written mostly about my grandmother. Lord knows I miss her, and Christmas this year is just not the same without her. However, to truly know her (which is what I hope my writing not only provides me but you as well) is to know him. The him I am referring to is my grandfather.

My grandmother married Herbert Eugene Hall on December 25, 1961 (I believe that was the year). This would be her 2nd marriage; the 1st being to my grandfather, a man I never knew. The man I know as my grandfather is Herbert Eugene Hall or as we affectionately call him, Paw Paw Red. Red was a nickname he inherited due to his red hair. Paw Paw Red came from Heiberger, Alabama. His parents home still sits there, a home he helped his father build from an old school house. He’s picked cotton, knows what it’s like to live without indoor plumbing, and has driven a truck for a living, once delivering caskets that were made from scrap pine wood (he’s says that weren’t worth anything).

Family is more than blood.

As far as I can remember, Paw Paw Red wore his work clothes (even when he retired). He is a retired truck driver from a company that no longer exists-Thermogas. His pants always come up way up past his navel. A belt keeps those pants up because there is nothing in the posterior area that can support those pants. The hat he wears sits on top of his head versus on his actual head. He’s had the same hair cut for as long as I can remember-military or high and tight. He’s always quick with a dirty joke and a sly grin after telling you. He also likes to point at his grandchildren and great grandchildren. I have been told that when I was a child he called me a knot head in which I would reply “I not a knot!”

Paw Paw Red is a man of few emotions but you know how he feels about you by looking at his scrapbook. Every clipping that has come out in the local paper about his children, grandchildren, etc., he has cut out and put in a scrapbook. The scrapbook also contains crazy and random stories of three headed snakes and “Dear Abby” columns.

My grandmother’s recent passing has been the hardest for Paw Paw Red. For 50 plus years, he has spent his life devoted to her. In his eyes, the sun rose and set by her. With her passing, a part of himself has died as well. I honestly don’t know how he will make it without her. His heart is broken, and I don’t know how strong his will is to survive. I believe that is what love is. It may start as a simple attraction to the waitress behind the counter at the truck stop to two people becoming one and not being able to physically live without someone when they pass.

Paw Paw Red’s parents’ home he helped build in Hieberger.