Papa Went Home.

Well, my Papa went home to Heaven on Saturday morning around 11:30. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to any of us, because Papa had been in poor health for years and in and out of the hospital continually. But he always seemed to bounce back and come home faithfully. This time, however, he did not bounce back. Saturday morning, my parents came in my room, saying that they were headed to the hospital and my dad, with teary eyes, said that he thought this might be the end for Papa. I wanted to go with them, so I threw on some clothes and pulled my messy hair into a ponytail. In the back of my mind, I wasn't expecting this to be it. Papa always comes back. We got to the ICU waiting room and my grandma was there with my aunt and uncle who live in Arkansas. As we walked back to Papa's room and saw him hooked up to the breathing machine, tears filled my eyes: this was my grandpa, my vivacious, ornery grandpa. We were told that all of his systems had essentially shut down and that he had very little brain activity. We waited for my other aunt and uncle to arrive at the hospital before they took him off the breathing machine and we said our goodbyes. As I watched my mother, aunt, uncle, and father all say their goodbyes, some of them sobbing, I held my Papa's hand, told him I loved him, and kissed his shoulder as I hugged him for the last time.
The next couple of days were filled with wonderful family time, and memories were shared constantly. We all loved Papa. He was so many things to so many people. Last night, I stood in line to shake the hands of those who came to his visitation. The line was endless for two hours: neighbors, church members, former students, the old TV repairman, an employee from one of Papa's favorite clothing stores, golf buddies...the list of people who came would go on for days. While the younger kids grew tired, I loved every second of the visitation. It was sad, but it was so wonderful to be able to see all of the people that Papa had impacted throughout his life.
Today, we held the funeral in his church, which is absolutely gorgeous. There was an overwhelming amount of flowers that people had sent that were cascading all over the front of the sanctuary. The service was perfect: it began with a trumpet solo of "Amazing Grace," which made me cry from the get-go. Papa would have loved that. The preacher said such kind words and told funny stories. My favorite part of the service, however, was when my uncle and dad both got up to give speeches. I couldn't hold back the tears as dad and Uncle Bubby told of how Papa would always show support in everything that we would do, but he would be sure to tell us when we did something wrong! And my dad shared some funny stories about Papa, ending his speech by saying that we should never go through life without telling those that we love the things that we need to say. You never know when you'll have your last chance to talk to someone that you love. The pastor also had all of the grandchildren give him a list of their favorite memories with papa. We had everything written down from the many golfcart-driving lessons he would give us, to how he would always buy an ice cream sundae for the "kids" and then eat most of it himself, to how he would always save a dance for me at our family reunion get-togethers.

My Papa was a wonderful man. He was stubborn, loud, impatient, loving, dedicated, brilliant, and grumpy just like his nickname. But most of all, he was my grandpa and I will miss him dearly. As we rode in my dad's car to the gravesite this afternoon, we listened to all of Papa's favorite songs that he would listen to on record (turning up the bass as loud as it would go). So Papa, in honor of you, I will be singing Boston's "Long Time"all the rest of my days! I can't wait to dance with you again in Heaven someday.