Tums, anyone?

My Papaw Wymer was a big man, both in stature and presence. And he wasn't selfish, at least that I could see. He always wore denim bibbed overalls with a pocket in the front bib. In the summer he wore a plain white undershirt under his bibs and in the cooler weather, a flannel shirt covered the undershirt under the bibs.

I remember how he used to eat Tums like candy. Or so it seemed to me. And yes they were Tums, and they were in a little cylinder like Life Savers, only smaller, and not as pretty. They were kept in the pocket on the front of his bibs.

One summer day we were walking down the "bottom" and he pulled out his tums. I just simply asked for one and he simply gave it to me. I thought I had just won the lottery (although I didn't even know what a lottery was or even that it existed). Well, maybe not. Maybe I should just say: "I felt very special" and leave it at that. And, and, it was a very good feeling. I don't know how frequently Papaw shared his Tums with me - I just know that he did. And he wasn't concerned that it would "kill" me or that I would become "addicted" to them or that it just wasn't "logical" to give a child Tums. He just shared because he could. And it made me feel special. And to me that was very, very important.

For the record, some fifty plus years later, I don't eat Tums like candy. Eating those Tums did not "kill" me, I am NOT "addicted" to them (or any other drug for that matter), and it seems perfectly "logical" to me to let a child have a Tums now and again. Although, I don't feel "special" when I do have to take them now!
And . . . . . Rolaids is NOT an acceptable substitute, nor are the "fruity" flavors or store brands.

Oh. . . . for the love of Tums. A pleasant, necessary memory!