Shared with permission from Randi Lyn Beaver (granddaughter):

"Papaw and one of the many lessons my son was blessed to learn. Cayson was Papaw's shadow for the past 6 years . He learned so many things from him. We were all blessed by this man he will be missed." - Randi Lyn Beaver

   I couldn't have asked for a better grandpa. I loved sharing apples, oatmeal cookies, and ice cream with you. I loved sitting in your lap in that comfy old chair. I loved helping you in the yard and checking out your projects. I loved when you'd surprise me and start singing along to songs. I loved that you were always strong, always consistent, and always there when we needed you. 
Wish I could eat bacon and gravy with you one more time, but I know that you are in a better place.
Like we always used sing about, 
you are "in that mansion just over the hilltop, in that bright land where we'll never grow old."
And someday "When I die, hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away" and meet you again in the sky.
Love you papaw.

https://youtu.be/ICrzF0kKQZM  

 Dear Papaw,

You always had red apples, wintergreens and ice cream.

As a child, I would run to you in your chair, "Papaw can you peel me an apple?". And you always would. I’d beg you to do that “thing with your teeth” and you’d smile and wiggle your top dentures. We’d laugh and scream, running from the room. We’d run laps through the living-room down the hallway and back and ever so often you’d catch one of us and pull us into your lap and tickle us until we begged for mercy while the other laughed and ran away. Sometimes you were stern and I can’t tell you how many times I’d pout in a corner after you’d gotten on to me for some wrong I had done.

When I was an adult you helped me buy first car, a ’91 Ford Tempo with no air. I remember you made me read the whole owner’s manual and then showed me how to change my own oil and taught the importance of checking my tire pressures and fluid levels. And when I was stranded on the side of the road you came and rescued me. When I found myself lost, you would help guide me even if I didn’t realize I was lost.

When I became a parent you helped teach our daughter how to ride a bike and cast a fishing pole. You poked more holes in the lids of coffee cans than I can count so the kids could catch any and everything that crawled. When our child was rambunctious you’d say, “Let them play”.

As a child, I didn’t realize that life is fleeting; that the ones we love are on this earth temporarily. As a child I didn't understand enough of the world to appreciate the real gifts I was being given. As an adult I didn’t understand enough of what parenting truly is to fully appreciate the wisdom and support a grandparent provides.

But you were so much more than red apples, wintergreens and ice cream.

With every apple you peeled you were teaching me how to do small things for the ones we loved. When you made me learn about my car and taught me how to do minor repairs you were teaching me to be responsible. When you punished me you were teaching me there are always consequences for my actions. When you salvaged and saved you taught me the importance of not being wasteful and working with what you have.

When I would catch you loving my mamaw through your kind words and touches you were unknowingly showing me that love doesn’t fade as we age. It is merely seeded and grows and blossoms into something so beautiful I was better for merely having witnessed it occurring between you both.

You taught me that the same hand that punishes can comfort and empower. You taught me the importance of helping others, of being selfless. You taught me the meaning of family.

Now you’re gone. 32 years was not enough. I never thought I would be ready for a world that didn’t have you in it. I’ll never see you cracking pecans in your chair again or sliding a biscuit through syrup after dinner. You’ll never peel me or my child another apple. When I’m in Stonewall, I won’t see you out walking or find you out back tinkering. At holidays and birthdays there will be an empty seat.

But for almost 32 years years you loved me and always made sure I knew it. Even more, for 83 years you supported, guided, and loved us all.

You did everything you could to make sure we would be okay. That’s why I know it’s going to be okay papaw. We are strong family because of the seeds you have planted. We’ll make sure the apples get peeled for the kids and they know how to cast a rod. We’ll poke holes in lids and remember to “Let them play”. We’ll take care of each other and always make sure our loved ones know they are loved. Mamaw is a strong woman (she had to be, married to you, right?) and we’ll continue to love and care for her as you did for 59 years.

We’ll make sure you’re proud of us while you watch over us from heaven.

Until we meet again papaw,

Manda-loo

C aring

U nderstanding

R espectful

L oving

E arnest

Y oung at heart