We Will Remember

Petra, I never imagined having to write this. I never imagined that I would have to make an effort to help you remember one of your grandparents. I just thought all of them would be there for you for the better part of your life. That they would watch you in dance recitals or ball games, concerts and plays...that they would watch you graduate and walk down the aisle to be married someday. The only reason they wouldn't see those things, in my naive mind was if the Lord came back and raptured us all home before those things occurred. Never, ever did I consider that one of them would die before you were even old enough to really remember them.

But here we are.

Your Grandaddy, "Grammy's Grandaddy" as you like to distinguish him, my Daddy, died on December 7, 2009. This has been the hardest thing I have ever gone through in my life. There is no comparison to be made to this kind of grief. I know if the Lord tarries, you will have to go through it someday - I pray earnestly that it will not be this sudden and more than that, that it will not be under such traumatizing circumstances. Someday perhaps I can go into the details of how Grandaddy died. I just can't do it right now...not in this post. This post is about my commitment to you to help you remember someone who should never be forgotten.

Your Grandaddy was the strongest man I have ever known. He was the one who could always be counted on in every situation. If something needed to be done, if there was a crisis staring you in the face, he was our anchor. My mom, your Grammy, always has had the reputation of being the 'strong one' in her family. But I saw the truth of the matter - she was strong, but he was her rock. He took care of everyone...me and my brother, Grammy, MeMa, and really even his sister-in-laws knew they could count on him when they needed anything.

He was a man of integrity - a hard worker who gained the respect of all of his coworkers and those who worked under him. Everyone who was touched by his life was changed for the better. His work ethic was second to none and the bar he raised on every task was often a hard one to live up to. No one kept a more immaculate car or yard. No house was better maintained. So much of his identity was wrapped up in what he did and how well he did it. He was a perfectionist, no doubt about it.

But I also remember the tender love he always showed to our family. He was never hesitant to tell you he loved you, to wrap you up in a strong hug, or kiss you on the cheek. He worked hard, but those times we did get to spend together he never held back in showing us how much he cared about us. I remember playing tag in the yard with him, or shooting hoops at the end of the driveway. I remember baking him little cakes with my Easy Bake oven which he would always eat and tell me how good they were, no matter how badly mixed or how runny the icing. He was always there and it was his presence that made me always feel safe and loved. He worked a lot - too much really. But the times that it mattered the most, he was there. He was there, and now I admit I feel very lost at the thought that he isn't anymore.

Oh, how he loved you. You were his first grandchild and the only one I am to sad to say he ever knew. He loved you and showed a reckless childlike abandon when he spent time with you. He would roll around on the floor with you, play hide and seek, make funny voices for dolls and stuffed animals. You would jump out from behind his recliner and yell, "Boo!" and he would jump and make a big deal out of pretending to be scared. You spent a lot of time outside together, watering the garden or playing on the swingset. You would play in the sand box for hours, and he never seemed to mind you dumping play sand all over the yard (Uncle Joe nor I could have ever gotten away with that!).

They had a big playground at Lakewood Campground at Myrtle Beach where we would all go together. I have such great memories of you and Grandaddy running around that playground, or playing in the arcade. He went and bought cereal so you could feed the ducks.

I also remember the two of you playing in the leaves. You were the only person ever allowed to mess up his leaf piles. One time we were staying at Grammy and Grandaddy's house and I heard you doing something in their bathroom at the back of the house. When I went back there to check on you, there you were standing in the shower surrounded by piles of unrolled toliet paper, Grandaddy standing over you grinning. I started to scold you, but he interrupted me, saying, "Oh, it don't matter. We'll just buy some more at Sam's." My mouth dropped open. Where was my spend-thrift dad? He'd somehow been replaced by a ready-to-spoil grandaddy.

You are going to miss out on so much with him gone. I hope I can keep the memories of him alive in you. I don't want you to ever forget.