Remembering...

Last Thursday we lost my grandfather, Paul. Even the grandkids called him Paul. I was the first grandchild and apparently I repeated what everyone else called him...and it just stuck, even after attempts to get us to call him a more traditional "grandpa" name.

Thankfully, we went the Sunday before that to say our goodbyes and he had two pretty good days while we were there. He was weak and wasn't awake much, but when he was, he was happy to see us, knew exactly what was going on, and almost everything that came out of his mouth was a joke. He lost his five year battle with cancer, but was Paul until the very end.

Throughout the past few weeks we've laughed and cried over our favorite memories of and with him. I am so grateful that for two and a half years I had the opportunity (I call it an opportunity, they may have called it something different :)) of eating lunch at my Grannie and Paul's house five days a week. I was in nursing school and worked for a doctor that were both just about two miles from their house, so they generously fed me home-cooked meals every day! Occasionally I would show up and Paul would have made me a steak and baked potato for lunch--because he knew that was my favorite. He called me "Tater Head" because I never turned down any form of potato. At the time, those 45 minutes every day didn't seem like anything especially memorable, but today I am overwhelmed with gratitude for those everyday simple moments with my grandparents.

I will miss the sound he made when we hugged him...like it was the best hug ever, I will miss him calling me Tater Head, I will miss him making fun of us for being Okies, I will miss the way he held Saylor in his lap and she would beg him not to tickle her, but when he would stop, she would beg for more, I will miss his laugh. I will miss so much about him, but the BRIGHT and SHINY silver lining is knowing that he's in Heaven and I will hug him tight again someday.