In Loving Memory: Papaw

Okay in sight of all the deaths including the celebrity death of Heath Ledger earlier this year and just recently the death of Farrah Fawcett and Micheal Jackson I wanted to write a tribute to my loving Papaw for two reasons.  The first being that death reminds me of the untimely end of my beloved grandfather, the only one I ever met.  The second is that my Mamaw who was married to my grandfather is dieing.  It seems my whole world is falling apart just as I figured I was finally getting started.  I am going to college in the fall and I'm so sure it will be so much better than high school ever was especially considering the new friends I have already met.  So this is to my Papaw for all the things he gave me and all the things I was never able to say to him.  I love you Papaw and I hope where ever your soul may be that it is listening and watching out for the grand daughter who loved you more than you knew.

 

 

 

When I look back on my years of life there is one piece that always brings tears to my eyes.  But first I want you all to know a little about John F., my late grandfather.  As I was too young to size him up, my mother has painted a portrait of the man I called Papaw.  He was a short man, but when he came into a room his presence was known.  A very well read man with many honors in his name for works of great magnitude.  He and my Mamaw adopted my father and my uncle when Mamaw was not able to have children. 

 

They moved around a great deal so my father got the full extent of the East Coast.  It was tiring as my Dad tells me.  My Papaw was a hard man, but a fair one.  I was once told a story of when he taught my father to drive.  Everytime Dad made a mistake, Papaw would scream and yell at him.  I could imagine him as I knew him yelling at me on my first drive.  I saw him in my father when I took out a stick shift for the first time. 

 

I was 3 years old when I died.  There are many things I feel guilty for now.  It would make me feel better if I just remembered anything about him.  His voice, his mannerisms, his laugh, but I don't remember anything.  When I try to bring up his face in my memory I can see it, faded and blurry like an old movie.  He's smiling at me and laughing at some long forgotten joke.  Even as I write this I see it and I want to cry.  If only I remembered how his laugh sounded, then I wouldn't hold the tears anymore.

 

My most treasured memories of him come from deep within.  I am sitting on his lap on the brick steps of my Mamaws house that I still sit on to this day.  He bounces me on his leg and I giggle at him.  I pause thinking of all the times he made me smile.  As I type the tears run like rain, streaking down my face.  His voice is muted as he laughs with me.  He kisses my forehead and I can read his lips.  He's telling me he loves me, he loves his little girl, his beloved grand daughter.  Perhaps if I had been older I would have seen it coming.  My mother told me no one knew about it.

 

I was with him that day as if nothing was going to happen.  It was like all the days before, he was happy and smiling as always.  One minute I was sitting with him and the next he was gone.  I can't remember the funeral or the sounds of crying.  I just know that everything changed after that moment.  When I got older I was lied to, told he died one way when it was really another.  A friend had to tell me the truth as it were.  My soul was broken knowing the truth of my beloved grandfather.

 

So now I go into his old office, gathering dust as no one cleans it.  Going through his many awards and various knick-knacks that cover his desk.  Trying to remember him as I touch each object, hoping something will come to me but nothing ever does.  It is hard to see my Mamaw wither away without him, my Uncle make mistakes without his guidance, my Father try to be good to his memory.  To this day I believe his soul to be with us.  As my dad believes, so do I, that my grandfather is in the spirit of a hawk.  When I see a hawk I think of my Papaw and the days he never got to see.  And here I wonder what would have happened if he had been here today.

 

 

RIP John F.

Beloved Grandfather, Father, and Husband

May the angels guard his soul

Author's Note

I cried the whole time writing this, but I felt it was time to write it.

Reviews

[Starting Over]

I love Michael Jackson's song this is a beautiful writer to your papaw!!!