I've been thinking a lot about my grandfather this month. He died a year ago this October and I realize now how much I miss him.
At this time last year he had been suffering for so long, in and out of hip surgeries, hospitals, 3 different care facilities. I have watched him over the past few years go from driving a car to barely being able to walk with a walker.
It's hard to watch someone die. Emotionally, a lot of my Papa died many years ago. His beloved wife, Esther passed away in 1991 and life for Papa had been more bitter than sweet since that day. He cared for her for more than a year as she spent her last days consumed with pancreatic cancer. It was rough, but it was the most serving, loving, selfless days of his life, and I believe he was at his best during that time. During that time he was so soft, he would cry easily, and found joy in being a good husband, and a faithful friend to his spouse. I thank God that they had that time together, it really cemented their relationship in kindness before it ended.
But since Nana's death, "going on" was not easy for Papa. He had good moments, laughs (mostly at someone else's expense) and smiles (mostly brought on by his great grandsons) and I am thankful we shared many a meals and holidays together in recent years. But it's only now that I find myself really wishing his life wasn't over. I'm afraid my memory of him will fade as it already has begun to in my childrens' minds.
Elliot was the last to see Papa before he died. We went to visit him in a home/care facility where there were 4 patients or so, all mostly lying around in recliners, catheterized, etc. When we were there he was sleeping at first, mom and dad warned me he really wasn't himself.... but after a few minutes of us hanging around and Elliot, 2 at the time making normal 2 year old noise, Papa came to. He knew us for sure, he smiled and tried his best to carry on small talk although he knew how disoriented he was. I was six months pregnant at the time but I know he had lost track of that fact. But he knew Elliot and as he watched my little boy it brought him joy in a way that no adult could. He didn't want small talk with me really, he wanted life, and watching a 2 year old is life, the very definition of it. Elliot had found a little beach ball around the house and was entertaining himself as I prayed he wouldn't break one of the many trinkets lying around this care home. Papa watched him with a twinkle in his eye and then motioned for Elliot to come over to him. He asked Elliot for the ball and amazingly began to throw the ball back and forth with my little boy. Of course Elliot was blind to Papa's discomforts and circumstances, and I think Papa liked that the most. The game of catch soon turned into target practice for Papa. He would recognize when he threw it too far to one side or another and would say, "oh me, that was a bad throw!" Once he hit him square in the face which made Elliot crack up with laughter. That I know for sure was the last sweetest moment of Papa's life. He died 2 days later.
For months after that day I relived that experience with Elliot, not wanting him to forget who his Papa was and the positive day we had together. But now it's a year later and Papa's name gets mentioned less and less. That's what makes me write this post. I have to say I loved my Papa, and I want to savor the memories I have left.
Peyton has a clearer memory of Papa than Elliot. We were cleaning out the closet recently and I said let's get rid of these house shoes..... Peyton said, "no, I like those house shoes, they help me remember Papa" and sure enough, they were the same style as Papa wore, more often than shoes. Now I'll have to keep those house shoes forever! Another favorite memory of Peyton's is from when he was 3 or 4 and had finally mastered the ABC song. He would be singing along as we were all in the car together and he would ask Papa if he knew his ABC's....Papa would say, no, I don't know my ABC's.....and Peyton would say try to sing your ABC's. To that Papa would burst out in song, the twinkle twinkle little star tune "RMDXNBQ...... and so on and so on. Peyton would just die laughing thinking it so hillarious that Papa could be so old and not know his ABC's. We would play that game over and over and Papa loved entertaining Peyton so.
I loved cooking for Papa, you would think I was Julia Childs by the way he bragged on my leftover casseroles. Oh, it's late and I am tired. I know this has been a long, uninteresting kind of post for some of you, but that's okay. It was something I needed to do. I need to say, Papa, thank you for being my Papa. I love you and have loved being your "messy" granddaughter. Even though you dropped me on my head when I was just a baby!, I have loved you being apart of my life, especially these last 6 years. I will miss you as I miss Nana. And as the years continue to roll on by I will not forget you or the love behind your laughs and tears. I am so glad you were able to know 3 of my boys, your great grandsons! What a gift it was for them to see you, hug you, and steal candy from your candy dish. Thank you Papa for your life, and for being the best Papa I knew for so many years. Donielle
