My Grandpa Allphin

My grandpa, Allphin, was one of a kind—the type of person who brought joy and laughter wherever he went. He had a way of making everything fun, even if it meant teasing me in the most hilarious and unexpected ways. One of his favorite songs to sing around me was, “She has freckles on her butt, she’s cute,” followed by “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee.” As a kid, I didn’t understand what he meant, so I’d go running to Grandma to pout. She’d always say, “Bill, leave her alone!” That would only make him grin, stick out his tongue, and whisper, “Tattle-tale!”

Grandpa was always full of funny sayings and nicknames. He’d call me “pot licker” and “fart blossom,” terms that somehow managed to sound endearing when he said them. No matter the situation, he had a witty comment or story ready. One time, when I was about 22 and nursing a broken heart, he told me a story about a mouse who had its tail run over by a train. Instead of moving on, the mouse went back for the bit of tail and ended up losing its head too. His moral? “Don’t lose your head over a little piece of tail.”

Grandpa’s sense of humor was unmatched, and he had a knack for making people laugh, even in tough times. His playful spirit and endless wit left a mark on everyone who knew him. I miss him every single day, but the memories of his laughter and love keep him close to my heart. Grandpa Allphin wasn’t just my grandpa—he was my favorite person ever.