My grandfather passed away this week. Today is his funeral and I wanted to take some time away from my regular posting to pay tribute to him.
When I was a little girl, I wasn't sure what to think of my grandfather. My grandmother would flit around the house chatting, showering me with affection and endearments. But my Papa was the opposite, a strong, silent type.
I remember telling him how my other grandparents got this thing called a newspaper, that had cartoons in it. Could he believe that?! I was five years old when I made this discovery and thought that the Sunday Funnies were the greatest thing since sliced bread.
The next week when we visited them, he pointed me in the direction of the grandfather clock, where he had carefully folded and placed the comics from that week's newspaper. I thought it was the greatest surprise and he smiled mildly at my childish joy. But then the next week when we visited they were there again, and the next week, and the next. And the weeks stretched into months and then years, a newspaper just so I could read the comics. And he never said anything about it, he would just smile at me as I spread the newsprint out on the living room floor and laughed.
That was how I knew my grandfather loved me.
As I grew older, I was able to recognize it in different ways.
Not your average teenager, I was terrified of driving. On the other hand, like most teenagers I did NOT want to ride the bus. And so every day I rambled on about teenage girl things to my grandfather, who picked me up from school and drove me home. I think back now and I am glad my self-absorbed seventeen year old self had so much time with him that year.
Papa was diagnosed with Alzheimer's shortly after I was married and the disease was not kind to him.
I was blessed in that I didn't lose my great-grandparents until my early twenties, and so I assumed Scarlette would grow up with her great-grandfather in her life. My greatest sadness today is that because he has been so sick lately, he was never able to meet my daughter, who is named for his late wife. I know he would have loved that. Though he didn't know me anymore, I told him often and he would say " I like that name. My wife's name was Vonne."
He was a good man, my Papa. He loved his family and I don't think there's any greater thing you can say than that.
"for the greatest of these is love" – 1 Corinthians 13
