My Grandpa, "Papa" as we've always called him died this week. He's been very sick with a lung disease caused from a factory where he worked a gazillion years ago. Exposure to asbestos or something of the sort. He was 73. His mother and father both lived to be in their 90's. He only has one living sibling out of four. His parents had to bury two of their children in their lifetime. I'm sure he was thankful to never have had to go through that.
Papa was a big strong, hard working man. He worked hard but he partied harder! He was a drinker and an opinionated man. Sometimes those things don't mesh so well together. This was my dads father. He was a good man.
The term Grandpa can mean so many things. They come in so many forms. This grandpa wasn't one who thrived on being a grandfather. As I said before he believed in hard work and harder play, but this wasn't meant in the way I play hard with my kids. His idea of playing was partying. Drinking, playing cards, dice or whatever the game of the year was at the time. He wasn't affectionate or compassionate. He didn't ever work to win us grand kids over. So it is what it is.
He was grandpa. I loved him. I respected him. I'll miss seeing him when I go home. My heart breaks for my dad who is burying his father today. He's stuck in the same rut as I am. He has memories, he loved his dad but the effort to be a kind hearted loving father to my dad just didn't happen. He worked hard, and taught my dad the value of hard work which was passed on to us and for that I am grateful.
I don't know where my Dad gets it from but he skipped the drinking part of the lessons Papa gave and absorbed the having fun with friends and to Dad that also means family. Thank God it didn't stop there because my dad taught me how to be a fun loving caring and affectionate parent. We worked our butts off on whatever project he was working on with Papa but then we got to cut loose and play. And it wasn't just us kids being shoved off to go play either. My dad would lead us as we played crazy games in the yard. We played a boatload of kickball and hide-n-seek as well as other very strange games but we laughed. We learned the value of getting a job done and then playing hard till the end of the day and going to bed happy with hugs and kisses and "I love you".
Today when my dad gives his fathers eulogy I know that his heart will be breaking for the things he missed out on during his lifetime. The joys and warmth felt by wrestling and playing with your kids and grand kids. Laughing till it hurts because the kids are being silly and loud and not being aggravated by the noise of children laughing too loud or screaming in excitement. My children will be able to remember all of their grandparents with fond memories because the few time they see them each year or two they make the most of it and work hard to build on these memories.
I'm glad Papa doesn't hurt anymore and he passed on without regret but I highly doubt that was possible. And that makes me more sad than losing him.....
My Real Life Army Brats
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03 April 2009
Death. Dying. What Matters Most?
Posted by My Two Army Brats at 11:25 AM
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5 comments:
I'm so sorry about what your father is going through, it is difficult. I buried my father 4 yrs ago, and it still seems like it was last week sometimes.
My prayers are with you and the rest of your family during this time.
My heart goes out to your family. We burried the only grandpa I knew back in 94. My dad kinda went through the same thing. His dad was a alcoholic, but was a hard worker too. He taught my dad to work hard. My dad wanted better for us, and I'm glad my dad did things differently than what he was raised with. My dad broke the cycle, and it sounds like your dad did too. I'm thankful for that. I'll be keeping you in my prayers.... (sorry to ramble on =} )
Men of your Papa's generation were like that. They grew up in hard times when being anything less than "manly" was simply out of the question. My dad was of that generation, too, and you could be describing him here. But beneath it all, they loved their families enough to keep doing whatever it took to make sure there was food on tables and clothes on backs and roofs over heads. So many of them could only let down after a few drinks. Too many of them suffered greatly because of it, and died with unspoken regrets.
The gift in it all is that your father, like so many of my generation, saw it and made changes that allowed you to experience a much different childhood. I wonder if those of us who grew up with our own personal Papas would be the same were it not for seeing how NOT to do it? I guess we'll never know. Thank God. I am proud of the woman I became. I bet your dad is proud of the man he is, also.
I know something of the heartache your dad is experiencing right now; something of the odd mixture of pain, sorrow, and relief. It is a difficult and disconcerting time in one's life when one suddenly becomes the senior generation. Be patient with your dad if he gets a little weird over the course of the next few months, OK?
My prayers and best wishes go out to him and to your whole family.
My prayers are with you too
Michelle...sometimes I wish that reality would just take a break for a few months, so we could enjoy our fantasies about how people are supposed to act, be, love, etc. I agree with damama, she has a great deal of wisdom in that comment! Oodles of hugs...
I'm so very sorry for you loss. My thoughts are with your family. He sounded like a great guy and you will have so many wonderful memories of him I'm sure.
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