My Uncle Jimmie

Have you ever had a relative who is larger than life? I have. His name is Uncle Jimmie. He's older now, but still a tough, don't mess with him kinda fella.
My granddad had two children, my mom and my uncle.. Jimmie. I remember as a child going to Uncle Jimmie's ranch in New Mexico. He wasn't a hugger. He was a hand shaker and you better be ready.
My fondest memory of Uncle Jimmie was his handshake. It came from Mississippi.. swept thru Texas.. and nicked Oklahoma. By the time it got to you, you better be ready.
Let me back track. Uncle Jimmie's not a big man, by anybody's standards. But, he's tough. I mean real tough. He worked hard raising horses, cattle and just about anything else w/ four legs. He didn't mess around.
Anyway, everytime I saw him it was kinda awe inspiring. He was a real life cowboy. He had the weathered face. The clipped language.. the 'hat-hair.' He was tough. You didn't want to be a sissy around him.. Now to the hand shake.
This hand shake would come from another state. It'd sweep around. He'd announce himself as "Jimmie Randals." Then, he'd grip your hand like a vice-grip. If you didn't push your hand all the way to the fullest---you'd pay a dear price.
The point of all this is, I just saw the man who reminds me a lil' of John Wayne. He's now 80-years old and still a pistol. He gripped my hand last Saturday and darn near took it off @ the elbow. We went to a football game and he remembered it like it was 1943, the year he played for the Snyder Tigers. He laughed, giggled, whistled and had a ball.
He's a tough ole cowboy. I never met my granddad, but I bet he's a lot like my uncle.
Bill Robertson. Ranch mgr.