In loving memory of my Papa

I think I need to write this to get it off my chest...I have lots of thoughts swimming around in my head and I'm not sure what to do with any of them. I've always been able to express my thoughts best in writing, so here goes.

My family lost my grandfather on Sunday morning.

I feel so conflicted. My heart hurts because I know I'll never walk in to my grandparents' house again and see my grandfather sitting there snoozing in front of the tv in his favorite chair. My heart hurts because we've lost the true head of our family. My heart hurts because my grandma no longer has him. My heart hurts because my mom has lost her Dad. My heart hurts because me and my sister lost the only grandfather we ever knew. My heart hurts because even though I knew he didn't have much more time in the world, I guess I still never expected him to pass away.But at the same time I felt some relief. I felt relief because I know how long he has suffered. His spirit had been trapped in a body that was no longer allowing him to live life. I know he's not in pain anymore. I know God is taking care of him right now. I know he is still with our family, and standing next to my grandma.

Now I need to say something that might sound hurtful, but it isn't. Please be sure to read all of this, because if you stop after the next few paragraphs you may not understand my meaning.

Our relationship wasn't simple. There were so many times I wished it had been, or wished it could have been... but it wasn't. My grandfather, known as Papa to his grandchildren, grew up in the south, in a time when whites and blacks were not seen as being equal in this world. So, to put it simply, he wasn't exactly thrilled when my mom married my father, who was black.I was almost five years old before my grandfather stepped foot in my parents house, even though we lived only 5 minutes away. I remember when my sister and I were little, he would kiss and hug my cousins goodbye after family functions, but wouldn't hug me or my sister. I remember wondering why was I different? Why didn't I get a hug? And I remember how much pain it caused my mother. It may have made me wonder, but it broke my mother's heart. There were other moments like that in my life. My grandparents going to my cousins' school functions or sporting events, but not coming to visit those of me or my sister. I remember my cousins being invited to spend the night at my grandparents house, but me and my sister not. My grandfather at that time did not see us as we were, he saw us a a color. We were his little black grandchildren that he was ashamed of.

Why am I talking about all of this? I'm not doing it to paint my grandfather in some negative light in his death. In fact, just the opposite. I want everyone to realize what an incredible person he became in life.

The truth will set you free, after all.

I was about 12 years old when my grandfather had his first heart attack. He had to have open heart surgery, and no one was sure if he would pull through the surgery. Well, of course he did. But what happened because of that event was remarkable. I remember after he had his surgery, he requested to my mom to let him see me and my sister. And when we went to visit him, afraid to touch him, he reached out his arms to us. He hugged us, with tears in his eyes. At this moment, he had a brush with death. Papa realized the error of his ways. He realized how important me and my sister were to him, and how he was wrong in the way he treated us in life. He was truly sorry.

It wasn't an overnight change, but it was a very steady change. During my teenage years my relationship with my grandfather changed very much. He hugged me and my sister, he was interested in our lives. He wanted to make up for lost times. He had an interest in us. He called me and my sister up wanting to take us out to dinner. He went proudly to my high school graduation, and cried at my sister's wedding. He was proud of us, and proud that we were his grandchildren. He would get tears in his eyes sometimes when me and my sister would hug him and tell him we loved him, because I think he realized what he had previously missed out on. I also think he realized that life would have been very different for us if he hadn't made a change.

I remember at one point he was driving me crazy because my mom had given him the phone number of Blue Lake. Apparently he thought me working at summer camp was this fun thing where I spent most of my day fingerpainting with kids, because for an entire session he called me like clockwork right in the middle of my unit meetings. :) I would always have to say "Papa, I really want to talk to you right now but I was just in the middle of a meeting. Can I call you back?" LOL I remember one of my counselors would come to me and say "Hey Tamara...there's some man on the phone who has a really deep southern accent, and I couldn't make out all he was saying but he kept asking for "Tammy," so I mean, I guess he wants you." I would always reply with "Yeah...that's my grandpa."Those words seemed simple, but they weren't. It took many years of my life to be able to proudly say "Yup, that's my grandpa."

I was proud of him. I was proud that he had done something that so many people aren't able to do in life. He was humble enough to not only see the error of his ways, but do something to correct them.It wasn't too long ago, that my grandfather had a serious talk with me. It was Christmas. We were having dinner together. My mother had made Christmas dinner and brought it to my grandparents house. As we were sitting and eating, suddenly my grandfather started a very serious conversation with me. He told me about how he at first wasn't very happy about my mother's marriage, and didn't want to have anything to do with my dad because of him being black. He told me about how he treated me and Tiffany different, and how very ashamed he was of that. He told me that he was sorry for that. He told me how he loved us very much, and how he thought of my dad as his son. He said told me that he thought the world of my dad and couldn't have asked for a better man to marry his daughter. He also told me he knew that some of our family "down South" still felt the way he used to towards my father... and that he was sorry for that because it was an ignorant way for them to think and live. He told me that he was proud of me. He was proud of everything that I've begun to accomplish in my life, and he was proud of me for being so supportitive to my mother this past year whie she's dealt with her own health problems.

My grandfather confirmed for me that night his unconditional love for me.

This last time that he was in the hospital, he again spoke of what he was happy that he had in life. Our family doctor came in to have a serious conversation about his health. After he left, he went on to say "I don't care what anyone says about him, he's a good doctor. He's been very attentive to me, he is always concerned with me. And I like him." That's what I have always loved about my grandfather, he spoke his mind, and was never afraid to get the last word in! :)

After that he went on to speak about my Uncle Mark. He mentioned to my mom that when he got to come home, he'd need my dad and my Uncle to carry him in the house. Then he said "I don't care about any problems there have been in this family, I'll tell anyone who asks, Mark and Kenneth have been good son in laws to me. They've always thought well of me and have always been good to me."

The last time I got to see my grandfather was Saturday night. My mom asked me if I wanted to go and visit him around 9pm. At first I was tempted to say no, because I was tired and wanted to go to bed early. But I am very glad I agreed to go. I needed to see him one last time. We had a good visit, and he was his normal self, joking with the nurses. He told us this joke my aunt had told him. What a great story teller he was! He could make any story seem like the funniest thing you'd ever heard. My last words to him were "Bye Papa. I love you, I hope you feel better." He said to me "I love you too sweetheart. Thank you for coming to see me."My grandfather passed away less than 12 hours later.

I don't speak of the past events to be negative, or to cast him in a negative light. I believe that there is great honor in being truthful, and honest. My grandfather was an honorable person because he learned how to speak the truth in life. He didn't always have the easiest life, but he tried to do what he knew best for his children.

He was a good man, with a good heart. He lived a rather simple life, but in that simplicity was beauty. He loved to laugh, and he loved to tell stories that made other people laugh.

I learned so many valuable lessons from him. I learned that love may seem complicated, but it isn't really. Love is simple, love is kind, and love is blind. It's our brains that sometimes get in the way of it.

My grandfather taught me what I may not have ever learned in life. It is never EVER too late to make a change for the better. And it is never, ever too late to say I LOVE YOU.

I am proud of the man that my grandfather became. I am proud to say that he was my grandfather, that I came from him, and I am who I am partly due to his influence.

Papa, I love you dearly. Thank you for being my grandpa. I will hold you forever in my heart. I know you're in a better place, and I know you are no longer in pain.

Thank you for loving me.