He was frequently mistaken for Santa Claus, especially if he wore red around Christmas time. It wasn't just his white beard, but moreso his warm smile and rosy red cheeks. And he played into it! He had his own Santa Claus outfit and wore it when he visited my aunt's kindergarten class. He was a jolly Santa.
He always gave us candy. My favorite part about visiting grandma and grandpa's house was that they had a candy jar on the mantle, and he'd always sneak us a handful when mom wasn't looking.
He was a transplanted cowboy - not native to Texas but you'd never know it, given his attire! When I picture him, I see cowboy boots and a cowboy hat.
Grandpa loved God, deeply. He always led our prayers before dinner, and he spoke with great love and respect to his heavenly Father. He'd also grow increasingly soft so that near the end of the prayer, none of us could hear a word he was saying! We'd smile at each other and wait for his cue that he was done.
Grandpa was deaf. He started to lose his hearing as a young boy and had to wear those big hearing aides that would hang around his neck. As he aged, technology improved and the hearing aides became more manageable, as his hearing became worse. He had a tough life, physically. A series of several strokes left him dependent on a cane and completely deaf. He wore a little sign that said "I am deaf" so that people wouldn't be offended when he didn't know to respond. He was always very considerate of the feelings of others.
Grandpa made awesome spaghetti. If part of his soul wanted to be a cowboy, the part that was left wanted to be Italian. :)
Grandpa was diagnosed with lung cancer in May 2008, shortly after having a patch of skin cancer removed from his forehead. He was a fighter. And, up until a couple of weeks ago, he looked great and seemed to be winning the fight. I saw him on Wednesday, right after Grandma Bynum's funeral, just after he had been moved out of ICU. It was indescribably difficult to see him so frail and in pain, despite the pain meds. He made eye contact with me and I held his skinny, cold hand. The following day, they took him home for hospice care and less than 48 hours later, he stopped breathing. I am so thankful that he's not in pain anymore.... breathing shouldn't be painful. Living shouldn't be painful. I know he's in heaven, no longer limited by his failing body.
Grandpa was 83 years old, and just this past July celebrated his 61st anniversary in Vegas with my Grandma. She's not going to know what to do without him. Even when he was sick, he always took care of her. Prayers for Grandma Root are appreciated. Their song was Unchained Melody.
We could also use prayers for my parents. They've each lost a parent within 7 days of each other. So far, I'm not too impressed with 2009.
Grandpa donated his body to science, in honor of his daughter Cozette, who died in her early 20s after waiting too long for a kidney. We'll be heading back to Houston this weekend for the memorial service.
Goodbye, Grandpa. I love you.
When Grandpa first met Aubrey, he wasn't feeling well and didn't yet know that it was cancer, so he thought he had pneumonia. He didn't hold Aubrey because he didn't want her to catch it. April 12, 2008

















