Papa

Twenty nine years ago today my grandfather passed away.  I was ten.  His was the first funeral I attended.  I don't have very many memories of him - just a few stand out.  I used to spend weekends and summers with my grandparents.  They lived in a two bedroom house in north Denver.  My sisters used to sleep in twin beds in the second bedroom and I used to sleep in between my grandparents.  He always complained that I kicked him all night long.  My grandma would tell him he was crazy - I never kicked her.  Not long after he passed away, I spent the night with my grandma.  Because she was missing him, she slept on his side of the bed.  The next morning she told me that I kicked her all night long.

It's no secret that I was totally spoiled by my grandparents.  Every Sunday after church and breakfast we would go to Target.  Most weekends my sisters and I would get something.  They're older than I am, so they mostly got clothes.  I still played with Barbies.  There was one particular weekend that I was told I could have one thing.  I just couldn't decide.  There was a Barbie with super long hair and if you pushed her back, her arms moved.  There was also an afghan dog (for Barbie) named Beauty.  It seemed like hours that I stood in that isle trying to decide.  I finally chose the Barbie (who ended up being one of my favorites of all time) and I swear on everything good in my life I was trying to be content.  But I have to admit - I wasn't succeeding.  I was so sad that I had to choose.  We were standing in line and pretty soon, my "Pa" took off.  He came back with that dog.  Which I still own - along with the leash, the bowl, the bone and the newspaper it came with.

He used to call me "big girl".

Like I said, my memories aren't many - I was only ten when we lost him.  But every August 26th for the last twenty nine years I've thought of him on this day.  I called my grandma every year to tell her that I was thinking of him and of her and that I loved her.  Since she passed away, I now think of both of my grandparents on this day.  Him because I miss him and her because I miss telling her that I miss him.

In my grandma's last days, I was not only sad to be losing her, but selfishly, I was even more hurt because she wouldn't be at my wedding.  One of my good friends told me that she and my Pa would be dancing at my wedding.  That single thought made it bearable that she wasn't there - she so wanted to be.  That thought is a bit bittersweet these days, but I have to admit - since then, that's always the way I think of them....together....dancing in Heaven.

Ok, ok - sometimes I think of them sitting at their kitchen table talking.  Well, he's listening - she's talking.  I didn't get my "let me tell you exactly what I think attitude" out of thin air, ya' know.  However it's times like these - when I can tell you exactly what I inherited from my grandma that I really wish I had known my grandpa better.  I LOVED being their little girl granddaughter!  I loved being her adult granddaughter even more.  I was friends with her.  I got to know her.  I learned from her.  It's days like today when I wonder what I would've learned from him.

My memories of him are that he was a quiet man.  I wonder what his opinions were, what his true beliefs were.  In any given situation, I can tell you what my grandma would say.  I wish I knew some of those answers of my grandpa.  I do know that he loved her - a ton.  I know that he loved my mom and my aunt and that he loved my sisters and I.  I can only pray that he knew how much we loved him back.

I think he did.