This is my Papa. And he’s gone. My phone rang last night at 9:30pm & it was my Mom. It’s rare for my Mom to call much past 8:00pm, so I knew it must be something important. My 8 month old nephew was going into surgery this morning so I assumed that must be what the call was regarding. “Papa just passed.” I was in shock. It was sudden. It was unexpected. We are told it was painless. If only the loss, grief & mourning could be the same.
My Papa was a fun loving jokester & the most tender-hearted man you’ve ever met. He loved & he loved well. He was humble & sincere. Caring & nurturing. He was ornery & blunt. He was selfless & full of compassion. He loved my Nana more than anything & a big piece of him died the day we lost her. My Papa loved his kids & grandkids with all of his heart & was so proud of each of our accomplishments. He would instantly be in tears as he’d squeeze your hand so tightly, looking deep into your eyes & shaking his head in amazement while barely choking out the words "I'm so proud of you".
He was my Papa. And he’s gone. I know there’s a part of him that must be relieved. He’s finally home with my Nana which means he’s probably having the best ever day up there. But I’ll never see him again. I’ll never hug him again. I’ll never see a card signed “Papa” with a big heart around it. I’ll never hear his chuckle. I’ll never get to laugh at his stories. I’ll never hear his voice saying, “Well, I’ll be darned”, "Aww shucks!" or "Oh boy!".
The finality of death is really hard & really surreal. I can’t believe he’s really gone.
This was my Papa & he was amazing.