Grandpa Fletcher
Mar 26, 2018
1 min read
Here's an old photo of my grandfather, Fletcher Potter. He was an orphan who fought in WWII when he was stationed in Italy. He was a great guy, friendly, and very kind to everyone. He built his own home in stages, and knew how to fix just about anything. His favorite phrase when enjoying a satisfying meal was "good stuff." He enjoyed singing old songs to his loved ones, most of which I'd never heard before. I miss him very much, and so does the rest of the family.
Reading about Grandpa Fletcher brought back a vivid memory of my own grandfather’s Sunday afternoons in the garden. He’d sit on that creaky wooden bench, the one with the peeling paint, and tell stories that seemed to stretch across generations. I remember the smell of fresh tomatoes and the sound of his laugh as he tried, and often failed, to teach me how to tie a fishing line. One summer, he showed me how to carve a wooden spoon, his hands steady despite the years, and I swear the wood still carries his touch whenever I look at the finished piece hanging in my kitchen. Those moments taught me patience and the value of simple, shared rituals. It’s funny how…
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