Where do we begin? Your Papa was quite the guy. Someone once described him as "A good man, not a nice guy, but a good man." Never were truer words spoken. You see, your Papa was really a pretty complicated man. On the exterior, he was a little rough around the edges, a little crude, a little rude, and sometimes just downright mean. No one really seems to know why, it's just the way he was. But underneath that rough and rugged exterior was the softest, kindest, warmest man to ever stand on two legs. He didn't let people through that hard outer shell very easily, but once you were in, you were in for life. He was funny, he was cantankerous, and he was really just a big kid at heart. He loved to play and he loved to laugh. He also loved to argue and he found a certain pleasure in yelling. He loved Pikes Peak, coffee with cream and sugar in it, anything sweet, hunting, elk, the outdoors, his nasty old truck Thunder, old western movies, his recliner, the dogs, guns, anything that exploded, and more than anything, your Nana and the family.
He loved all you kids dearly, even before you got here. He couldn't always remember your names, but he loved you anyway. He loved to hear you laugh, and you guys always did your best to put on a show for him. He so looked forward to teaching all you guys the ways of the world, just like he taught us. He wanted to take you hunting and teach you how to shoot guns. He wanted to teach you how to fix things, and even how to break some stuff, too. He wanted you to know the value of hard work and determination, and how to drive a tractor. More than anything, he wanted for all of you to remember him and know just how special you were to him. To truly understand how great he was, the plan is to fill these pages with memories, facts, and little tidbits about your Papa. You may have never met him in person, or may have been too little to remember a lot of things. But this blog will bring him to life time after time over the years, so that you do have vivid memories of him, even if they aren't entirely your own. And I guess this blog is for us, too. We are fulfilling one last promise made to our Dad that we would never really let him die, and make damn sure his grandbabies know who he was.
Your Papa loved to play, and often times it got him into plenty of hot water. He got into more trouble with your Nana than we did as kids. Honestly, most of the time when we did get into trouble, it was his fault anyway. He taught us how to gamble, cuss, and get into all kinds of things we weren't supposed to. He cheated at everything. He cheated at basketball, volleyball, poker, bubble blowing contests, Hungry Hungry Hippos, and I even think he robbed the bank in Monopoly! Most of the time, when an adult plays with children, they let the kids win at least once in a while. Not your Papa! I guess he just wanted us to learn how to be gracious losers. He even used to beat our friends in pool, and take their money. I told him once he couldn't take their money, and his only response was "If they're tall enough to put it on the table, they're big enough to lose it." He meant it. He also used to say, "If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying." Wow, such words of wisdom. But that's just who he was. He sure didn't sugar coat anything.
I had mentioned before that your Papa was a little rough around the edges and that he liked to yell a lot. Trust me, when you had done something wrong, you really heard about it, forever. Half the time, the man couldn't remember which name belonged to you, but he could remember every little thing you did wrong forever, and he wasn't willing to let you forget it, either. If we had broken something, or done something wrong, and we knew he was going to find out about it, we would fight about who had to tell him, because we knew the explosion that was going to follow. That never changed even until the day he passed away. He sure could make a scene! And sometimes, it got so ridiculous that it was funny, but don't you dare laugh. It would only make things worse. Even though he seemed to find some strange pleasure in yelling and carrying on, he knew when it was best to be quiet, too. Somehow he always knew when you were feeling worse about something than he could ever make you feel. He had an uncanny sense for knowing when a good hug was really more effective than chewing you out. We all had those moments in our lives, and those hugs and those quiet times are the ones we remember and cherish the most. And those were the times that defined who and what he really was, the best daddy in the world.
I could fill pages and pages with stuff about your Papa, and I will eventually. There are so many memories and so many things to tell you, but we'll take our time and cherish each and every one. But the bottom line for all of them will always be the same. Your Papa loved and still does love all of us. And that love is the greatest gift he could ever give us. And it is our goal in these pages to never forget that, and make sure that you, his lucky little grandbabies never forget it either.
Listen to Dads Songs
