A Season for Goodbye

April 27, 2006

Dear Papa,

I wish more than anything that I could be with you right now to tell you this in person. Please know that you are in my thoughts and prayers everyday, and even if I can’t be there in person, I am very much with you in spirit.

I love you so much and I couldn’t have asked for a better Papa. I am so proud to be your granddaughter, and I hope that I make you proud, too. Thank you for always supporting and loving me. And thank you for all of the wonderful memories. Because of you Papa, I have an organized tool kit (the one you made me for high school graduation). I know how to make a good handle for carrying a picture on to the plane, and I know the importance of being organized. You have taught me so many things, Papa, thank you.

I wish that Evan was here so he could meet you. I am going to tell him all about his Great-Grandpa, though. I will tell him how you made the best pie, and that you always had something good growing in your garden. I will tell him how you made me a special crib for my dolls at your house, and how I always loved to go in your shop with you. I will tell him about going on your boat with you, and how you always gave us kids “gas money”, even before we had cars to put gas in! And on the 4th of July, I will tell him the story of how you thought the fireworks were for you on your birthday, and I bet he will say that they still are. Someday I hope that I will have a little girl too, so that she can enjoy the dollhouse you made me as much as I did. I will always cherish that dollhouse.

I love you so much, Papa. If I were there right now I would give you a big, big hug, and I would have you put your hand on my belly so you could feel Evan kick. He is getting so big! He is kicking me right now while I am writing this.

You are the greatest Papa in the world, and I am so lucky that you are mine. I love you and I think about you always, and I always will.

Hugs, kisses and love forever,
Andrea

Tomorrow it will have been a year since I wrote this letter that my Papa never got to read. It will have been a year since I sat in my living room sobbing, feeling my baby kick inside of me, and for a brief second resenting that I couldn't fly because of him. It will have been a year since some well-meaning person told me that Evan would take my Papa's place in our family, and a year since I cried guilty tears over that statement like only an 8 months pregnant woman could.

I thought that by a year later, the grief would feel less raw. I mean, I spent my adolescence reading those Lurlene McDaniel's books with titles like "Too Young Too Die" and "A Season for Goodbye". I have watched all 5 seasons of "Six Feet Under". I thought I could handle death and loss and saying goodbye, but it seems that I am not as prepared as I thought.

It is hard when my Papa lived so far away, and I didn't get to see him as much as I would have liked to. Sometimes, I forget that he is gone. It is easy to imagine that he is at home right now, probably enjoying a big breakfast and some coffee, and that I could just pick up the phone right now and hear his voice. That is the luxury and the curse of the distance.

When I actually did go to my Nana and Papa's house last year, about 3 months after Papa died, I can't even begin to explain how hard that was. Every memory I have of being at my Nana and Papa's house, they were both there. As we walked through the garage door like we always do, I remember seeing my Papa's battered white Lion's Club hat hanging on the hat rack by the door, just as he had left it. And I wanted more than anything for him to be sitting inside, waiting to give me a hug. But he wasn't there, and the house seemed different somehow.

My heart is different somehow, now, too. I guess the reason I wasn't prepared like I thought I would be, is that you can never really be prepared. The only way to be ready for a loss, is to have nothing to lose. That is not something I am willing to do. So instead, I will cry. I will remember. I will be gentle with myself and those around me. I will love with all my heart. I will make my Papa proud.

April 26, 2007

Dear Papa,

I have missed you everyday since you left. I know you know that, but I thought I would tell you again.

Isn't Evan the cutest, Papa? I know he would like you. He would touch all the moles on your face, and probably try to kiss them. Then he would play peek-a-boo with you. You would probably sneak him candy or ice cream, and I wouldn't even get mad.

I was eating an ice cream cone the other day, and I remembered that you taught me how to lick it so it wouldn't drip on my hands. You always knew the neatest tricks. Moments like that help me know you are still here with me.

I love you, Papa. There isn't much more I can say besides that. I love you and miss you and I hope that I will get to see you again someday. Until then, Papa, I hope I make you proud. I hope that you look down and see me and smile at what you see. Because I still smile when I think of you.

Love forever,
Andrea