Being the only grandchild that may really remember him is a little sad. Especially since I may be the only one to remember him before he had the stroke that would confine him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
I was also the only one of my siblings to attend his funeral. I was only 8 years old at the time and my siblings even younger. The day he passed away my family was just moving back to Vancouver after living in the Okanagan for 1.5 years. We missed seeing him by mere hours. It was a Saturday.
I remember arriving at my other grandparents' house and my mom getting a phone call. I just remember her face. I don't think she even said anything. She didn't need to.
We used to play the 6/49 together and I'd get to fill in the spaces, I'd ride with him in his wheelchair when at the mall and that he always had lifesavers, especially in the hospital: butterscotch.
So, Papa, today we think of you, and remember.
No comments:
Post a Comment