When I need words I just can’t seem to find them and when I have not want of them, there they are.

And the only word I can seem to find right now is:

Irreplaceable = incapable of being replaced.

I’ve lost something.  I’ve lost someone.  And he can never be replaced.

If you ask anyone about my grandpa, Warren Hardcastle, you would get the same description.  And inevitably, it would be, handsome, kind and funny (could their be a better combination?).

My grandpa was a gentle man with a strong constitution.  He was such a handsome man.  Dapper, really.  Almost everyday he ate bologna sandwiches, fritos, a banana and peanut butter cookies.  His favorite dinner was minch and yes, pot roast too.  He loved a good apple pie and oatmeal cookies.  A cheeseburger and milkshake from McDonald’s every now and again.  Breakfast was his favorite meal of the day, biscuits, bacon and eggs were always the mainstay.  He loved biscuits so much that he always told us his mom was surely making them the day he was born.  Then there was the time he was home from the army and she cracked an egg on his head to wake him up.  And as for bacon, in his later years, he made it every morning and carried it in his pocket to share with his favorite dogs.  Coffee for breakfast and dessert.  And tea for everything in between….both with one sugar please.

Grandpa Warren sang us songs like, A You’re Adorable, and old songs I never did know.  But my favorites were the ones his mother sang to him.  Songs from Scotland part strange, part scary but always interesting :  Little Liza Jane, Rock Rock Bubbly Jock, The Day We Went to Rothesay O’ and Little Mary Phagan.

He told us stories about the strange characters in his small little town.  People named, Raincoat Bill, Posse Cleat, Hunky Frank and a dog named Spanky.

It’s funny the memories that are random as can be, like riding in his talking car, a Chrysler New Yorker, that always said, “Your Door is A Jar.”  The radio boomed WBBM and it seemed the news talk would never end.  Pepsi for the ride and money for the tolls.  A never-ending supply of Wrigley Spearmint gum and even better, Juicy Fruit.

The TV glowed with the Cubs, funny movies and yes, Fox News.  He loved to golf and he loved to fly.

I have memories from childhood, some clear, some foggy, some far and some nearer than near.  Always fixing something and never shy in lending a hand.

I was lucky to have such special young years with this sweetest man.  But the past few years none can compare.  We’d talk on the phone and eat dinner at night.  I’d always cook him whatever he’d like.  My grandpa would come by to have dinner with my little family quite regularly and we’d always share a cup of tea.  It was really just the every day that was the most special to me.

The thing about my grandpa I know the most, is that he was always watching out, waiting up and worrying about.  He would always stand tall in the driveway and wave when someone drove away . . . until it was the very last thing you could see that you saw.

He was our watchman and he was our guard
(and could it be anymore beautiful that this is the very meaning of the name Warren).

And I guess while my heart is so sad and quite cracked, what I have to hold onto is simply that, my sweet grandpa will forever be watching over and guarding me.

I love you my sweet grandpa  – – you are – – irreplaceable!