It is never easy to say goodbye. In fact, in my 28 years of life, I have only had to say goodbye one time. I have been so blessed by God in that way. I have grown to believe that some people will live forever, knowing full well that we are all mortal beings.
Today, September 16th, we had to say goodbye.
My paternal grandfather, Papa Stank, peacefully passed away from this life.
Shortly after hearing the news, I immediately begin to write my feelings down in my head. I never have been very good at displaying my emotions. When Daniel was sick, I became very good at wrapping it all up inside, for no one else to see. Instead, I turn to words...writing has always been my escape. Even today, Brian lovingly wants to hold me and wrap me in his arms, allowing me to break down and let it all go; yet I hold on. I know Brian understands and doesn't hold it against me. I am sure someday God is going to knock it all out of me, that day will probably suck really bad! For now though, I will do all that I know how...share with words.
My grandfather, or Papa, as us Stank kids used to call him, lived about 3 hours away during my childhood. We used to see them often though, and I recall so many times when he and my grandmother would be there to help us color Easter eggs, for our birthdays, and for other special events. As we got older, we would visit at Thanksgiving, Graduations, weddings, and birthdays.
Papa loved to play golf and to smoke his cigars. He always smelled like cigars and it was never a bad smell to me. When we were little he would give us his empty cigar boxes; it was a box that we would use for our wonderful childhood "treasures". I will never forget those light blue boxes.
Papa was the best storyteller in the world. I am saddened to think that Sierra will never hear of all the stories he could tell. I remember Rapunzel and Rumpelstiltskin and the Three Bears. We would all lay in bed together and be mesmerized by Papa's story telling.
Papa was missing half of one of his fingers because of an accident he had at work. He would always tell us that my grandmother got mad at him and bite it off. I seriously think as a little kid, I used to believe him. He would tickle us with the little nub of a finger that he had and we would all giggle and laugh.
He was a fighter, up until his very last breath. He was a United States Marine and he served this country proud. He fought in World War II in the South Pacific. He trained at Parris Island and back in 1998 when I was telling him about Brian's boot camp training at the time, I remember him saying, "those boys train in paradise now. When I was in boot camp, Parris Island was nothing but huts and mud." Once a Marine, Always a Marine.
Papa was always full of life. Even though he suffered a stroke 5 years ago that severely disabled one side of his body, he was never gonna give in to just sitting around. Papa was literally "Mr. Fix-It" and would always be looking for a job to do whenever he was visiting. He could never just sit still.
Papa was the only man I know who combined the words "Hi" and "You" into one word and would ALWAYS greet you that way. "Hi-ya" was always the first thing that rolled off his tongue whenever he saw you.
He was such a wonderful Grandfather. I know he was a wonderful Father too, because he raised and trained the loving father that I have today.
Papa, I am sure you greeted the Lord today. I am sure Jesus smiled when you said, "Hi-ya"!!!
You will be missed. I cherish the memories I have and will make sure that Sierra knows what a wonderful Great-Grandfather she had in you.
Please keep my family in your prayers as we all travel to New York to say our final Goodbyes.
