Cindy Manning

“I wish I had more time,” Grandpa says finally, the words a whisper. “Seventy years sounds like forever when you’re young, doesn’t it? But it’s not. It’s just a blink. Really no time at all.” He pauses. “But I can’t think of any better way to spend the last of it than with you.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas

“Change is a part of life, son,” says Grandpa. “But
you want to know two things that never change?”
“Death and taxes?” Grandma asks.
“No,” Grandpa says. “Sweet tea and snap peas.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas

“People don’t see you when you’re older. People like me and Ella…it’s like we’re
invisible. That’s how I feel…invisible.”
I looked at him for a moment, looked at the wrinkles on his face, the creases under his eyes, the faint white stubble along his jaw, the ruddiness of his nose, his cheeks. I loved his wrinkles, loved the lines of wisdom
on his brow, his forehead. Loved his calloused hands, the healthy red of his skin, the hairs on his head resembling pale-gray toothbrush bristles. “I can’t imagine not seeing you, Grandpa.” A tear slid down his cheek, catching in the corner of his mouth. “You’ll never be invisible to me.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas

“Worryin’ is like sitting in a rockin’ chair. It don’t get you no further down the road.”
― McCaid Paul, Sweet Tea & Snap Peas