“Born in ’21” – Happy 90th Birthday Grandpa Mills

Born in ’21, and still goes at it like a man in his mid-30s quite often… what’s not to admire about a man who has lived out Luke 2:52 to a ‘T’ – he has “grown in wisdom and in stature.” I, for one, admire his ongoing smile, his quick wit (even at this age), and his love of His heavenly Father – and his quickness to display it. This grandfather of mine could also be labeled as a best friend, an ear that is always eager to listen, a go-getter, an honest worker, a man of integrity, a die-hard family man or anything else with such high praise. I have been blessed with his presence, as well as the rest of my grandparents, through 27 years of my life thus far – and pray for many more.

I am always at a need for wisdom, and I know that if I drop by 223 Helen at any point in the day, the blue recliner will be filled with somebody ready to take on any question I may have and give wise answers that only come with age. The recliner will probably just slightly rock, and I may not like the answer all the time, but God speaks through the voice of my grandfather and I know to listen attentively to everything he has to say, crunched for time or not – these are days I may never have again, so for now, I’ll cherish them with everything that is within me.

This isn’t something that is new – it started from his wedding vows to a wonderful Christian lady, and then poured through the veins of a loving daughter and son – who have taken on quite a spitting image of this head of household. Something can be said of a man when people look at his family – if they are still as tightly wound as they first were when things began – God has kept His hand on them – to which I say that the Mills’ name has been held. I am proud of my heritage, but cannot compare to the pride that my 90-year old grandfather has welled up inside of him when he traces his roots or when he gazes upon the now four generations that are alive and well. Hearing family history from his voice will never get old in my book.

As a boy, I remember the countless hours in the front driveway playing “basketball” literally – with a basket – and riding up and down, up and down on the tommy lift in the rear of the Coca-Cola truck after his hard days at work. I remember sitting on the vinyl seats of that old pick-up and getting to shift gears for grandpa and how he’d guide it to the right place, just as he’s done with his family over time. I’ve heard countless stories of how hard of a worker he was at the “Coke plant” and how genuine he was as a friend – and how he always seemed to be smiling. That’s compassion for people, and he’s got it. And, the fact of the matter is, he’s still a hard worker – that’s something that never changed once he hung up the Coca-Cola cap the final time. I still say he’d outwork me 10 times to one.

Then there are countless hours of baseball to be shared with grandpa – whether it is his devotion to his grandkids’ and now great-grandkids’ baseball, or his joking “love” of the Cubbies – it was something that always helped glue his family together. I vividly remember the half-sawed off baseball bat that hung out in the backyard gripped tight in grandpa’s hands as he “made” us boys take grounders in the heavily gumball infested backyard. He’d hit and hit and hit, taking our “throw-ins” barehanded more often than not. He was always available – and it didn’t stop there – it continued to every ballgame in high school and even into meaningless church league games thereafter. We’d get a phone call, and on the other end of the line, usually preceded by a “J.B.?” – we’d hear, “what time is the game tonight?” You better believe he was going to be there, fighting mosquitoes and all.

Devotion…  The one word that could sum up the 27 years I’ve been in existence from grandpa, from religion, to relationships, even to baseball – he’s got it.

A man that still assigns prayer every time we eat a meal, and a man that is a shining example of “head of household” – here’s to the 90-year old grandpa I wish everybody had and one that I’m proud to carry on his name. Happy Birthday Grandpa.