It wasn’t funny at the time.

In most families there is someone who is the bearer of bad news. If something would happen, my mother would be the one to call everyone. One day I got a call from my sister and she told me that granddaddy had died. My first thought was, oh poor mom, her dad had died and that was the reason she had not been the one to call.

Truth was I didn’t like my mother’s father, but I felt so sad for my her. When my young daughter got home I told her the news that granddaddy had died and we were going to head up to be with my mother. It was an 8 hour trip. About four hours into the trip, I asked my daughter why she was crying so much. She had not been around my mother’s father so I asked why she was so upset. She said “Well granddaddy has died”. She thought it was my dad, who she was close to. I told her “No, sweety it was….then it dawned on me that I did not call my mother’s father granddaddy and my father’s dad was called pawpaw. After calming her down and explaining that it wasn’t who she was thinking it was and that I didn’t actually know now who had died, we decided when we got to my mom’s house we would look around to see who was the most upset and figure it out that way. We didn’t cry the rest of the way. Turned out it was my father’s step father. Next time I asked questions.