How many times have you seen the quote, "Live life to the fullest"? I know we all try to follow it, but sometimes actual life gets in the way. I do know one man who truly lived life to the fullest. A man who filled a spot in my heart that became empty with the loss of my own father and grandfathers. For everyone, living life to the fullest means something different. But to Papa it meant loving, learning, and embracing. I think I learned more from this man in our visits than I did in my whole university career. His stories were like life lessons that were put into my very soul without having to learn them on my own. Whether it was the story of how he met his soul mate and how it changed his life. Or what to tell the contractor that was working on our basement. Or his view point on a war in which the white men were scalped by the native people...and how we really have to examine events like that because even though scalping is cruel and dramatic, it meant so much more to the people who were doing it. And maybe those being scalped shouldn't have been there even though it shaped our current society. He taught me to examine both sides of history and to actually feel what it would have been like to be on either side. And when we had our many talks about my new job and how scary it was to once again be jumping into an entirely new role, he had tons of pieces of advice on how to address each part right down to my favorite, "Wear a low cut dress to that meeting. A beauty like you will really get their attention." Or his love of the Western Development Museum. A place I had been a hundred times before. It became a completely different adventure learning about it from the perspective of someone who had seen many of those things with his own very eyes. And he didn't just tell those stories. He spoke with such passion that I often feel like I lived his stories as well. When we named our son Jack, Papa was so excited. When Scott told him the news on the phone, I could hear him from across the hospital room. I am so glad that we were able to give him that moment. And every time he was around the kids, he would tell everyone in sight that Jack was named after him. He would show off both of our kids to anyone who would listen. Papa loved. He loved life. He loved family. He loved a good story. Granny made his eyes sparkle in a way that every woman wants to be adored. He lost that sparkle on the day that she died. It became a bit of my own personal vendetta to bring that sparkle back even if it was just for moments in time. I saw that sparkle while he watched the owl at the zoo. I teased him that I could take him to a real sod house and I saw that sparkle when he saw that house at the museum. But seeing our kids brought that sparkle to his eyes each and every time. I am so happy that our kids got to know this wonderful man. No matter what kind of day he had or how he was feeling, he would always want a giant bear hug from our kids. He touched their hearts like he touched mine. I am so happy that I had the opportunity to know Papa. And I can't wait until my own Jack is older so I can share with him all the reasons why we chose his name.
Letting go of someone so wonderful is a challenge. But it gives me a sense of peace to know it was a life well lived.
