PawPaw

Boys, your dad is the nicest, most good-hearted man I ever met. He's the kind of person that everyone gets along with; not an enemy in the world. He's the kind of person that brings the grocery cart all the way back into the store. He's almost always in a good mood and he firmly believes in doing what is right. He's just like your pawpaw.

PawPaw's life is coming to an end. This disgusting disease is slowly taking control of the functions that you and I take for granted. He can no longer eat and speak. His hands are having trouble gripping things. He's had a few falls. The muscles in his diaphragm that allow air to move in and out are slowly shutting down. And as of late last week, he is fighting a staph infection/pneumonia, which is causing him to have more mucus and phlegm that he can't cough out. He's in the ICU and if he sticks with his decision to not get a tracheostomy, it may be days.

As mentally prepared as I thought I was, I'm not. I can't find the right words to say to your dad to make him smile. I can't keep myself composed when the doctor walks in with more bad news, because all I can think about is will he get to see his grandsons again? This is so much harder than I thought it would be. I thought I'd be stronger.

But with all of this sadness surrounding us, I can't help but think about how lucky we were to have him. Your dad and Uncle Neil had 30+ years with your PawPaw as their dad. They have some of the best childhood memories of camping, baseball, silliness and accomplishments that a family can have together. Your PawPaw taught them how to be good people, how to work hard and how to love unconditionally. Your dad works so hard at being a good dad for you, but the truth is, he's already a great dad, because it's in his blood. He learned everything he knows on being a dad from your pawpaw. And as hard as it is to see through the sadness right now, he'll move on from this, as will Uncle Neil, continuing to be just like PawPaw and to carry on his legacy.

Your dad mentioned to me last night, "I wonder if they know how much we love them." What's tough about this whole "circle of life" is that wisdom takes time. You're not born with it. You don't realize how precious life is and how important family and good friends are til you're older, and sometimes, til you've lost the people closest to you. Having this extra year to appreciate your pawpaw, while it still wasn't enough time, allowed us to really think more about how much he loved Granny, your dad and Uncle Neil, and how serious he took his role of husband and dad. When you and your cousins came along, that love multiplied exponentially. And you brought this unexplainable, overwhelming happiness to his life, even more than what he felt as a dad. I think he'll miss you four most of all.

Boys, I'm so sorry that you won't get to know him like your dad did. I wish you would've had more time to become friends with him as adults. But I can guarantee you that although he may no longer be with us here on earth, he will be in our hearts. He will be at every ball game, with the best seat in the house. He will watch you grow. He will live in your conscience, helping you make the right life choices. He will watch over you and guide you through your successes and failures. He will help you to know and feel unconditional love and to recognize when good people come into your lives. He will travel with us to the mountains. He will be at your graduations and weddings. And if there's ever any doubt when you're older about what he was like, just look to your dad. Because, like I said, he's just like him.