Papa
My Papa1 died yesterday.
When I was seven, he called me “Buddy.” He’d pick me up at my house and take me for a ride on his motorcycle. On other days, we’d ride through the pastures in his dune buggy. Early in the morning, after feeding the cows, Dad and Papa would stop at the gas station in Kerrick and buy me A&W root beer and a Whatchamacallit candy bar.
Sometimes Papa took me fishing at Lake Meredith. I’ve never tasted catfish as good as his. I’m sure I never will.
Filed in: Journal.
We love you and are praying for you. Glad you have Joel with you for support. Travel safe. We’ll miss you.
im so sorry. ill pray for you and your grandfather tonight
Sending hugs– I know it’s so, so hard. You’ll be in my thoughts.
Hugs!
I’m so sorry for your loss. We lost my mil last week and I know how rough it is. Sending you love.