Death 101 Remembering PaPa

I realized at an early age that my Papa was my hero! LOL
The Sun rose and set on that man. He would never leave me, he would always be there for me no matter where I was or how old I got, he, my hero, my giant, my knight in shinig armor, would be there as my safety net, my refuge.
Of course the day came when I had to, as was so aptly said recently, "put my big girl panties on, and deal with it!"
Loved ones die. That's what happens. It's all part of the grand scheme of things, it's all part of "life", it's the natural order of things.......and it sucks!

But, we have to deal with it. How do you do that when you don't want to? Some people cave in, they cry, they get into depression, they face a blank wall with their emotions at every turn. It's the void at the table early in the morning, the empty place at dinner, the corner of the closet that still holds the old shirts, pants and jackets. Maybe it's the horrible ties that were worn! It's those old reminders that cause that lump to come to the throat when you least expected it. Then you sit down on the closest chair, or the edge of the bed, and the tears come all over again, that God-awful empty feeling is back and you just didn't want it to!

SO! You take each day, one at a time, like putting one foot in front of the other even tho' you are convinced that the next step is going to make you fall through a crack. You do it anyway. There's no getting around the fact that the entire life around you is still going on. Mundane things have to be done. Jobs, housework, children, all need you in some way or form and without you, well, your own natural order of things begins to collapse and no purpose is suited if that happens. Each day puts anoher 24 hours between you and your grief. Pretty soon a couple days go by without that grief taking up 100% of your thoughts. There are longer and longer periods of time before you think about it again. You'll feel some guilt at first, realizing that you haven't thought about the loved one, you'll feel that the person will think you've forgotten them! It's natural. You'll get over it.

The memories will come, a little at a time, first one little one, then a series. Some will make you cry a little, some will make you laugh out loud. (you may feel a little guilt over that too, not to worry) You will find that when other family is around you can actually bring the subject up, some little memory that they will all find pretty neat!

It's a life process. It's what happened to me when my Papa died. I wasn't ready for it, it shouldn't have happened when it did, but, it did. There are some days when I wish so hard that he was still here, to share in some experience or joy or heartache with me. He isn't but who knows, maybe he is somewhere "up" there, looking down and either smiling, or shaking his head, or just giving me "that look" when I am not "doing right, girl". When I think of that "look" I smile to myself. (and of course I start "doing right) right away! LOL

Let me tell you one quick story about my Papa

Times were hard a lot when I was a kid. Money was not there most of the time but we didn't realize it so much as so many others were in the same fix.
Papa was a cabinet maker and was in the construction trade to make ends meet. The call for hand made, quality cabinets was slowing down when mass production took over. He was a pure naturalist also. He so believed in treating our Mother Earth the way we were put here to do. Yes, he hunted, but only when it was a necessity to put some food on the table. Over the years we were used to wild game, fish etc. and when it wasn't possible, my Mom could make quite a meal out of just veggies.
As times grew a little easier, dad decided that during a recent layoff of the construction crew he had been with, he would go deer hunting to put some meat on the table. I got to go with him.
We walked for a long time on an early morning hunt. The Sun was up for a bit when we came to a small clearing and at the base was a beautiful stream. It looked just like something out of Field and Stream. There stoon the single most beautiful Buck I had ever seen! An enormous rack of horns and of course to me he seemed like a giant. Papa put his finger to his mouth, my signal to not even breathe! I put my fingers in my ears, not wanting to hear the shot that would down that most precious animal, and the tears started to flood my cheeks. I knew what was going to happen, and it was to put food on the table, but, it still hurt like heck. My eyes closed tight shut and tears still streaming, I waited. And waited, and waited. No sound. No shot, no nothing.
I figured it must be o.k. to at least take a small breath by now and I opened my eyes. The Buck was still standing there, still sipping water from the stream and Papa had lowered his rifle, just watching the beast. I still believe to this day that I saw a tear on his cheek too. I looked at him and asked in as quiet a whisper as I could, "you're not going to shoot him Papa?" He put that big ol' hand on my head and said "I guess I'm too old to hunt, and we really don't need the meat. He's too fine and needs to live on." He never hunted again. He fished occasionally but never hunted.
I believe that on that day, my heart was so full of admiration for that man, it could never be matched.
Papa, I miss you so,
"your girl"