Today my Papa died.
He was 87 years old, born on April 11th, the same date as my brother Chris. He was a special man, so dear to me that my son bears his name. He worked hard and gained respect of people all over the world. He lived the last 12 years without the love of his life, my grandmother, Ruth.
Some of my fondest childhood memories were of my time with my Papa. I could always be myself around him. He adored my ridiculous childhood performances in his living room. For years, he allowed me to climb him for what we called "up and overs". With him I caught mice, rabbits (to pet and release, of course) and explored many interesting places.
When I was very young my mother and I lived with my grandparents. My Papa adored me so much , he told my mom, that I kept him out of the bars at night.
I am so thankful for my mother and Aunt Tricia who went through so much to help my Papa. I am so glad that my children and I were able to spend time with him at Christmas.
Thank you Mom and Tricia, for making it possible for us to share in some of his last days. I have missed Papa for many years. Love is never easy, but definitely worth it.
