Dear Papa-
First, I want to say that I am angry. I am so angry that this is happening to you. It just doesn’t seem fair. When I look at you I see so much more life to experience, so much more love to give, and so much more fun to be had! When I tell people that my grandpa has cancer, I always follow up with the fact that you are no ordinary grandpa!
With that being said, I hope you know that this cancer does not define who you are in any way. When I think of “Papa,” I think of a grandpa and great grandpa who has so much energy, a great sense of humor, and an impressive sense of style. I think of a man who does a funky dance when he has his “weeds” on, and who drives a stylish and sporty car. I hear a voice telling me not to “forget to use soap” as I walk off to go take a shower. I laugh as I picture you telling your grand-daughters that they “look like they just stepped out of a playboy magazine!” I have memories of long ago when there were early morning talks on my walkie -talkie and your CB radio as you would wait for your truck to warm up and you’d head down the road. I’d listen to you until the reception was too weak, and then go back to bed wondering where you were. This same Papa in my adult life is the one who “surveys” our group of friends while visiting Southern California, slowly shakes his head, and says, “there must be something in the water down here.” I think of the vacations… the houseboat on Lake Mead, the days on Don Pedro, the timeshare in Newport, and the recent trips to Maui. One of my favorite parts about these times spent together is listening to you tell stories with my other grandparents about the crazy memories you all have together long before I was even born. Man, do I have a lot to live up to when it comes to having fun! And while you always make me laugh and take us by surprise with your unexpected comments and questions, you have been the same Papa who so freely compliments, encourages and continues to reassure us of just how proud you are of our accomplishments in life. Never think for a second that I don’t know just how much you love me.
Well Papa, this is the part of the letter where I should be using the “past tense.” I received the painful news early this morning. I am sorry this letter didn’t reach you sooner. However, I’m not going to use the “past tense” to finish this letter up. I know that where you are, you are still the same person you were to us down here. And although I’m not sure that your sense of humor is always appropriate for the “Man Upstairs,” I’m sure you’ve found a way to tailor your words and still spark that joyous laughter that you did in all of us so often.
You have left quite a legacy behind… 4 children, 8 grandchildren, 8 great-grandchildren, and more to come in the years ahead. Our children will grow up to know what a special person their GP is. You have already made such an impression in their short little lives and will continue to do so in many ways. And, do not worry about the wife that you leave here with us. This legacy of yours will make sure that “Mom, Mema, GG,” is taken care of and overwhelmed with the love and comfort that only family can give. She is in good hands.
Although I will think of you often, I will especially think of you when the sun shines down on the ocean waters just off the coast of our So. Cal beaches. I know that you too will be enjoying the amazing view of the water, sand and the enhanced bikini bodies that walk and lay amongst it. We love you, we miss you… may you rest in pain free, cancer free peace.
