Last night I came across an old handkerchief in my closet. It is decades old. I don’t even know how old it is. I have had it for almost 30 years. I have no idea how long the original owner had it before then. It has holes throughout. Yet I still keep hanging on to it. I have had it since my college days. It has moved with me through two states and multiple addresses. It has remained in my possession as I have gotten married and divorced, and as I became a father to my four children. It has been a constant as I have changed jobs and careers, and as I have experienced all that entails growing older from my late teens to now, fast approaching my 50th birthday. Save maybe some T-shirts from high school sports, and my letterman jacket, I do not own a single piece of cloth that is older than this red handkerchief.
In fact, this is not the first time I have written about this seemingly nondescript, faded red, now scrap of material. (You can read the previous piece here.) So why do I keep hanging on to something that many would say needs to be replaced and thrown away? Furthermore, why do I keep writing about it? That answer is simple. It is because of how I came to obtain this handkerchief and who previously owned it.
This handkerchief was my grandfather’s. I got it after he passed away during my freshman year of college. (You can read more about my relationship with him here or listen to a podcast where I read that piece here.)
Simply put, I keep this handkerchief because of nostalgia and the memories of my grandfather – Cleadis Robert Gragg, Sr. I carry those memories whether I am carrying his old handkerchief or not. I think of him daily, but especially today as I write this piece. He was born 120 years ago today.
This handkerchief is beaten up and well used. It definitely shows the wear and tear it has endured over the decades from its two owners. Yet it still serves a purpose. It is still able to be useful and serve its original intent. It has weathered the storm and kept going.
My Grandpa lived out that same virtue of keeping going no matter what. In his late teens, he dropped out of high school to support his mom and younger siblings after his dad passed away. He was working as a custodian at his former school. One day, the principal asked him why he had never graduated. My grandfather explained the situation. The principal then worked out an arrangement where my Grandfather would come early in the morning and clean, then go to class and football or baseball practice, and then clean again after that. My grandfather did just that until he obtained his diploma. Then he played football for both a junior college and a four-year university. He wanted to be a teacher. But when he finished at the university, Oklahoma was in the midst of the Dust Bowl, and he could not provide for himself and his wife on a teacher’s salary. He went to work on the railroad again and then later ran a full-service Texaco station after retiring from the railroad. No matter what challenges came his way, he kept going and kept living in such a manner that all who came into contact with my Grandpa left those encounters changed for the better.
He definitely made my life better and changed me in profound ways when I came along as his 25th and last grandchild. I had the privilege to learn from all of his experiences as I spent time with my Grandpa. Whether we were in the barn building something, gathering eggs, checking on baby chickens, or out in the garden, Grandpa never stopped sharing his wisdom with me through his words and his actions.
As a teenager, I had a front-row seat to one of his final challenges. A lengthy, several-months-long hospital stay due to pneumonia when Grandpa was 86 led to him developing blood clots in his right leg and having to have that leg amputated just above his knee. I watched and learned as Grandpa never quit going. He lived another 4-plus years after that, even after losing his wife the spring following that life-altering hospital stay. They had been married for over 62 years. I know he missed her every day for the rest of his life. But he never stopped living out his purpose, and he never quit making a difference. He would have horrible phantom pains in his lower right leg that no longer existed. Yet he kept going and kept positively impacting all of those around him, including me.
So, when I look at this well-worn and hard-used handkerchief, I do not see something past its prime and in need of being discarded and replaced. Rather, I think of my Grandpa, and I smile and reflect on the reminder to never give up living out my purpose. Where you may see just a piece of cloth, I see the resolve to keep going no matter the situation. Whether you are in the midst of sunny, pleasant days or you are walking through a violent storm, you must keep going and keep living out your purpose to leave those around changed for the better.
Mr. Gragg 