The Seven of Us

This is a photo of my dad's brother, Uncle Drew (Isaac Andrew Droddy).  He is 9 years younger than my dad and has always been much broader. Otherwise they'd be twins.  One of his daughters (he has 5, along with a son) posted this photo to commemorate his 55th birthday yesterday.  Oh, my Isaac isn't named after Uncle Drew.  He's named after Drew's grandfather, or my great-grandfather, Isaac Newton Clegg, Jr. (So I guess he's also named for Isaac Newton Clegg, Sr.  What a name to give a child!  [Isaac Newton, not Isaac. Isaac itself is good. It's the apple falling from a tree image that's not so appealing to me.  Haha!  a peel ing!)

Well, for starters, this is not the blog post I've been meaning to write for 3 days.  That was going to be an unpublished journal entry.   But since my parents are here, and since today my dad told a story about my grandfather which I hadn't ever heard, and since I never knew him (my grandfather) but have always loved him with all of my guts (and my heart), and since I've done his temple work and I know he has accepted the gospel, and since the story is fresh in my mind and I can't sleep anyway, well, for all of those reasons, this post needs to be written...now. I guess I should explain the title first.  If you're a southerner, or a Louisiana (Loos eee anna) person, you don't need an explanation. For the rest of you, it is this: Several years ago I started wondering what I'd call my grandfather (William Droddy) if he were alive.  I decided I'd think of him as "Grandfather Bill".  Then I realized that "grandfather" would be ...