thinking about the grands

Papa and Me
A few months ago my Mama and her sibs traveled back to Indiana to move her “Daddy” (my 91 year old Papa) out of the house he has lived in since I was five. Yeah...over forty years. Although my Gramma has been with God for years, much of her stuff…and all of their stuff…was still intact...they had been married 67 years. My Mama spent a couple weeks packing up, giving away and throwing away.

An estate sale was held….which threw me for a loop…resulting in a panic attack…manifested in my acquisition of a couple pieces of furniture which are currently being held hostage in my former friend’s office in f-ing Joliet, Illinois. This furniture has caused great consternation and division within the family. But I digress.

It was a very difficult time for my Mama, her two sisters, and her brother. I wish I could have been there to support her and stick up for her….I am grateful I wasn’t there to endure their bullshit. It was very difficult for all of them. At 91 years old, my Papa is still totally “with it”. He still drives, does his own laundry, makes most of his meals, sends birthday cards to each member of the tribe, pours his own Jack, and takes the pot at the poker table. Don’t get me wrong…ain’t nobody letting him win. It would be the family badge of honor to beat him at cards. However, the spirit of Opal Lee and the force is strong within him…and he takes everyone’s money. (ya' know she DID sorta look like Yoda)

When I tell this story about Papa moving…everyone smiles understandingly and nods solemnly…I KNOW they are assuming he is moving into a home or retirement community of some sort. But no. At 91 years old….Papa has moved in with his girlfriend.

Papa, I love you…and I think you are just about the most wonderful man in the world.