Well, yesterday marked the one year passing of my Papa. In my busy and relatively noisy life, I rarely slow down long enough to "remember." Sometimes things just hit me--like I've failed to look up and notice the tulip poplar in the front yard before my forehead meets in squarely on its rough, hard trunk. Ouch!
The one year anniversary of my Papa's death did not sneak up on me though. It didn't take me by surprise or bring me to a place of sadness. You see, part of the joy of having little ones running around is that they see things so innocently, so clearly sometimes. The boys and I were having breakfast yesterday and I told them that one year ago Papa died. I asked them if they remembered going to his funeral. They did. Then Asher, who is four, said what he always says when anyone talks about Papa. He said, "But Mommy, Papa is ALIVE in Christ!" That's it folks. My four-year-old gets it.
I read my cousin Tisha's blog a little bit ago and was thinking about what she said about her kids not knowing Papa. It reminded me that my little guys have a very limited memory of their "Papa Virgil" as they called him. They remember the farm, the tractor, the tools, the cats, and they even remember how Papa always had a toothpick in his mouth. But they remember other things too. As we drove to the funeral one year ago, Asher asked all of us if we remember visiting Papa when he was on "that machine." Yes, we visited Papa one day while he was at the dialysis center. Papa told them all about the machine he was hooked up to. He told them how it helped make his body feel better afterwards. They were fascinated and a bit concerned. After we talked a little bit about their memories of that visit Asher said, "But Papa doesn't have to do that anymore now, right?" "Right, Asher!"
Their actual experience with Papa may have been few, but they are strong memories for them. And I get to add to their memories those I have. About a month ago when all the watermelon started appearing at our local farmer's market, the boys just had to have one. We were enjoying the sweet fruit later that night and I couldn't help but make some watermelon rind teeth. That's right, I carved some green teeth right there at the dinner table. The boys always appreciate a chance to be silly at the table, so they joined in and we all sported our watermelon rind teeth! I have such a vivid picture in my mind of Papa and his watermelon rind teeth. No, my boys never saw him carve out teeth from a watermelon, but now when they think of this in the future it will be tied to their Papa Virgil, who lived on a farm and had so many tools to play with. ("Put that tool back where you found it Elias!" "But mom this is where I found it," he says as he tosses it into the tall grass growing around a tree that has become a collecting spot for various items covered in rust.)
I guess as long as I can remember and relay my stories to the kiddos, they will begin to see the Papa they knew through my eyes as well. The Papa that took me fishing in farm ponds, the Papa that let me play with the baby chicks, the papa that bought me a $300 chevette when I arrived at college without transportation, the Papa that then taught me how to drive that chevette since it was a stick, the Papa that said about dancing at my wedding, "Now why would I want to go out there and tire myself out like that?" And he really enjoyed seeing his great-grandsons! He would watch them wrestle and tumble, run around the yard, sneak up on the cats. And when I would try and settle them down or reign them in he would say, "Now, you just let them be. They aren't hurting anything."
So the thing is, Tisha (and the rest of you all without little ones yet), your kiddos will know their Papa Virgil through your stories, your memories and your love of him. And for kids, that is everything!
I know my post is a day late, but I like to think that Papa would tell you all, "Now leave her alone, she's got three little boys to run after. She does what she can!"
Love to you all!
Jodi
