Treasure

This is my husband:

<3

He’s wearing his grandfather’s Stetson, which he inherited today as part of a treasure trove of Pendleton shirts and jackets, amazingly hand-tooled and buckled belts, and Grandpa’s distinctive gold ring. Inside, it’s monogrammed “A.B.E.” for Andrew Burgess Eastwood (“Abe” being Grandpa’s nickname from his railroading days). 

It was handed off to Trent in it’s original box; inside, it had been carefully supported for decades with wads of rolled-up newspaper. Newspaper from 1954:

Let's hope this headline is an omen...

Let’s hope this headline is an omen…

These effects have found a good home with Trenton; not only can he wear them all (amazingly, he and Grandpa are near carbon copy fits), but he will wear them. Heck, a good percentage of his wardrobe is already comprised of Grandpa hand-me-downs.

I love this man: Trenton. I loved his grandfather, too, of course. I’ll never forget the moment he cornered me at the Eastwood family reunion, just after Trent and I got engaged, and said in his old Texas drawl,

“You ready for this, girl? You gonna be good to Trenton?”

Forever and ever. xoxo, Abe.

A.B.E.

A.B.E.

 

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4 thoughts on “Treasure

  1. Margaret Wisniewski says:

    What a fitting and heartfelt tribute to two fine men, Grandpa Abe and Trenton Temple. They sure do grow them right in the Burgess family. You are lucky to be part of it, Lisa. And Trent, those clothes look like they were made for you. Underneath the San Francisco techie exterior, you really are a cowboy at heart. Love you both!

  2. Margaret Wisniewski says:

    I showed this blog to the grandparents and Grandpa Sam commented on some unusual parallels to Grandpa Abe. Grandpa Sam worked on the railroad in 1954. He also had a car a lot like the one in the picture, and there is a picture of Grandma sitting on the hood. It was about the same year. And Grandma commented that “She loved Trent the first time she laid eyes on him.” Just confirms what you had to say, Lisa. Happy memories!

  3. […] this. All of it. Alone, in our home. My Texan-Californian superhero wrote a symphony to his late grandfather, recorded it, and edited a movie to go with it and I didn’t even notice. And he desperately […]

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