No one calls me Sweet Pea anymore.
No one sings next to me in church with a deep bass, a bit off the rhythm but with the most joy anyone could muster.
No one calls and asks to speak to Centerfold.
As we move toward buying a new house, I know he won’t be there to help us paint — with a smile. Who paints with a smile anyway? Just him.
My sons no longer have a great-grandpa who gets down on the floor — on his belly — and plays trains. Or cars. Or just hangs out. My kids were so, so blessed.
While the phone doesn’t ring and I am not greeted by his deep voice… and there are no bone-crushing bear hugs… and I simply miss his face, his voice, his presence…
He will always be with me, with us.
Two years may have passed. Two years without my beloved Papau. But he is still present in our memories, in our stories, in our hearts. In the lives we continue to live.
His legacy lives on through these two little guys.
“They will fly me, like an angel,
To a place where I can rest.”
Missing you tonight… and always.