Floyd C. Largent

I think about my papa (great-gramps) often. I can remember the lines in his coffee cup from the black coffee with loads of sugar. One time we shot at box that he drew a target on inside his house with a BB gun, his flooded out house that was his home. He would take me to bingo with him sometimes while the smoke from his Marlboro reds floated out the window, I'll always associate that particular smell with him (although later on he quit!). He loved to make me smile. Miss you!

I miss my grandfather so much

I've been thinking about Mr. Largent a lot lately. He was a large part of my childhood, and I remember him fondly. I wish I had seen him and told him.