There once was a man who woke up every morning feeling like a wildcat, that man will not wake up tomorrow. Instead, he is basking in the glory of our Heavenly Father.
Normally, I write about the antidotes of my boys. But tonight it is with a heavy heart I write about my grandfather, Pops.
Charlie Verdo Cartee passed away tonight. He died peacefully, surrounded by the family he had built with his bride of more than 60 years.
He was a man who loved and was loved.
A man for whom I owe my sense of humor to, a man who taught me all about Bear Bryant, and a man who I inherited my love of politics from.
I was blessed to have him in my life, and to be a part of his.
Ask anyone who knew my Pops, and they’ll tell you…he was one of kind.
Even as dementia threatened to rob him of the person he was, the person we all loved, his personality would resurface.
Every morning I would have coffee with my Pops and Little Maw Maw.
Seated there at their dining room table I would listen as he talked about growing up in Carrollton, recanting stories of his brothers and sister, or even tales from my own childhood.
Each morning he would always ask me, “Where ya going today, Piboo?”
I liked to tease him and say “Prichard, and you’re going along for the ride.”
So, as I prepare to say Goodbye, I look back fondly on the times I waited for his big red car to pull into the driveway and then watched him climb out wearing a hounds tooth hat, or seeing him pretend to blow up his bicep, or cutting into a Watermelon he had chilling in the cooler.
My Pops taught me the importance of family, and because of that I am forever grateful.
I am also grateful, my boys knew their great grandfather and because of his faith in our Savoir the Lord Jesus Christ, we will see him again.
And I know, tonight the wildcat has never felt better.
