Am I gonna write a book?

Well, to be honest, I don't know if I can or not. I have thought about it since my best friend, Bill Boice, died. At first, I wanted to write a book about him. I actually put some time into it, but, in the end, gave up. It wasn't very good. I waited too long to do it. It took me about 2 years after Bill died to start it. Bill's accident sucked then and it still sucks today. But, the simple fact is that we only knew each other for about 7 years. Best friend or not, there was not, as I know now, enough to work with. So, with that in mind, I am gonna try on another topic.

This time I am gonna write about someone that I know a great deal more about. And, with a little help, will learn even more about. PAPA. Yeah, Robert Alonzo Berryman. I'm gonna give it a go, even if it never leaves the pages of this blog. Did I spell leaves wrong? I can't tell. I have written 4+ pages of 1-2 word reminders for me to go off of. It took about 25 minutes. Jesus, how many things have I forgotten?

There will probably not be the same standard bullshit in this story that I usually put into the other stuff. I just want to put down what I remember of the times we spent together. There will probably be a lot of skipping around. I will undoubtedly remember things as I go along. Certain things will trigger other things, and so on. I will try to tell the story as I remember it. Not starting at birth, but we may work our way back that way. That just made me remember something else. When we lived beside them, on the FARM, I remember more of Granny early on. Running next door and so on. Not complete thoughts yet.

I'll give you one to get it rolling. Not sure where it will fall cronologically, but...I do, absolutely, remember Papa waking me up, by rolling the ice cold beers ,that he found in the cooler in the back of my truck, into bed with me. Now, I wish he would have finished it off by pouring the ice and water on me too. I must have been, at least 18. Still not leagal in most of the country, but around Knox City...........

Jim

P.S. Papa is the only grandparent that I have lost so far. I know that I am very fortunate in that regard. Please don't think that I am slighting any of my other grandparents by trying to write this. I spent more of my time growing up with him than the other three. And yes, unexpected to some, I am still very emotional when I think about him. I will absolutely cry my ass off, like now for instance, when I write this. Maybe that is why I have put it off so damn long. But Granny said something to me, when I took her home last time that really triggered it. We left my house, and were going by the bowhunting ranch 1/4 mile down the road. When she saw the buffalo, she said, "Papa would have loved this." Then I told her about the hogs they have there, and how I can never not think about him when I see them.

One morning, when I used to get to take the kids to school, I saw a herd of hogs and just started bawling. The kids asked what was wrong. When I told them that they made me think of Papa, we were all bawling then. God, I wonder what the school thought when I dropped them off.