PaPa

My twin brother Brandon and I have a very unusual background. When we were born, we had all four sets of our great-grandparents and all four of our grandparents still living. Most of them lived within 25 miles of us, so we had the opportunity to get to know all of them and remember all of them (except our Great-Grandma Embry who died when we were 2 so we don't remember her). We even had two great-great grandma's alive when we were born! We had the opportunity to make a lot of wonderful memories with all of these great-grandparents and grandparents. I know I still remember going to see Grandpa Embry in Muleshoe and getting lemon drop candy at his house and going to Grandma and Grandpa Ike's house and drinking Dr. Peppers and playing with all their souvenirs in the back room. I remember spending the night at Memaw and G-Daddy's house and Memaw teaching me to play the keyboard and the organ. I remember going to DeLeon to visit Grandmother and Granddaddy McKillip and getting hugs from her that squeezed the air out of you. One by one, our great-grandparents passed on and most of them were gone by the time I turned 20...which is still a really long time to have had your great-grands! I still miss each of them.

But even more special to my heart are the memories we have of the many, many, many days and nights we spent at our grandparents' homes...MaMa and PaPa and Nana and Papaw. The older I get the more I appreciate the blessing of having such wonderful, loving, and supportive grandparents play such a big part in my life. The countless hours spent with them make up a large part of the fabric of my childhood. Of course, having them so close and playing such an enormous role in my life has made it even harder to lose one of them.

Last weekend, our PaPa passed away at 88 years old. Although we've known for many years that this day was inevitable, it did not make me any more prepared or any more ready for it to come. Everyone who knows PaPa knows that he has suffered for the majority of his life from a rare disease that made him crippled and he has been in more pain and discomfort than we ever really knew or understood. We all knew that it was harder and harder for him to function and that the quality of his life was rapidly deteriorating. We knew that it was getting harder and harder for Eldon and MaMa to take care of him and we knew that the nursing home would totally destroy his spirit. So while our heads and our hearts know that it is wonderful for him to have finally passed into peace and pain-free rest after so many years of struggle, it is still hard been hard to accept that life as I know it will never be quite the same again.

I was so glad that most of the family was able to be together Labor Day weekend, only 5 days before PaPa passed away. All week I have been thinking of the last conversation I had with him as he sat in his chair and of seeing him at church last Sunday night. Then when I traveled back to Farwell only a few days later and walked into the house and saw his empty chair, a million memories of the past 30 years began to flood my mind. They've been running through my mind ever since. I think about playing tea party when I was about four with him in their living room or sitting his lap while he read book after book to us. I think about shelling peas or snapping beans every summer in the garage. I think about him sitting in the pickup while I hoed Eldon's cotton and keeping me company on my breaks. I think about washing dishes with him after every meal while he told me stories about washing dishes in the Army. I think about him coming into the bedroom when we were spending the night and telling us stories about Sambo and reciting some of his many funny rhymes and sayings. I think about eating cake and homemade ice cream with him on every birthday or about rubbing his "gourd" (as he called it) with his hair that was "fine as frog's hair." I think about helping MaMa put his socks on and him joking about his ugly toes. I think about seeing him at church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night and about helping him get his crutches in the car or playing on his crutches while he was sitting down somewhere. I remember going to lots of parades with him and MaMa and how he never met a stranger. I remember him telling the same stories over and over but still laughing because he got so tickled every time like it was the first time he told it. I think about him shuffling around the yard moving the water hose or scratching up weeds. I remember sitting around the kitchen table drinking soda pop with him in the afternoon. I think about him dozing off in his chair with his mouth wide open and snoring loudly with his Bible in his lap. (One time we even dropped some little pieces of paper towel in his mouth just to see what he would do...that was mean of us, huh!) I think about watching Jeopardy with him in the early evenings or the weather before bed. Once I left home, I remember getting lots of letters written in his beautiful pensmanship telling me all about the crops and dr's appointments and other news...always signed "See you in the funny papers" or "crippled Annie." PaPa was always making jokes and laughing about old stories. He would say things like "See you down the road if it ain't uphill" or "My name's Embry, I guess you know yours" or "I'm fair to middlin'" or "its hotter than a two dollar pistol on Saturday night." He always told all his granddaughters, "You're just the bestest ole grandgirl a PaPa could ever have!" or "I like Rachie better than Rachie likes PaPa!".

People always think of PaPa as friendly, upbeat, and full of good humor. Lots of people in the church and community were so impressed because they never heard him complain or say a negative word despite the things he went through. I also think of PaPa as being very gentle and patient and kind-hearted. I don't think I ever heard him raise his voice or get upset or even slightly angry about anything. He was always so glad to see people and especially his grandkids. He just made us feel like we really hung the moon.

I know that its selfish to want these kinds of memories to go on forever, but the human side of me does. For my entire life, every time I went home to Farwell or went to MaMa and PaPa's house, everything was EXACTLY the same. There was so much comfort in that familiarity to me. I always dreaded the day when I would go back and it wasn't the same any more. And now it's not. It will never be the same. Already I just miss PaPa so much. I miss that I will never see him asleep in his chair again or hear him laugh and joke or tell another war story ever again. I miss that I will never get another letter or hear him tell me how "purdy" I am today. There is just so much I am going to miss and it has been harder than I ever thought it would be.

But more than anything I am just so thankful we had him all these years and I am so thankful for all these memories and more. I am thankful for everything I learned from him and for everything he meant to our family. I'm just thankful that PaPa was PaPa and that I got to be his granddaughter. I'm the luckiest grandgirl in the world and I KNOW that I like PaPa better'n he likes me!!