Today marks six years since my dad passed away from Cancer. I’ve never really dedicated a post to this day before. I don’t know why. I guess because it’s not a day I like to remember. I usually start out the evening before dreading the date and then spend most of the next day in a fog just trying to get through what seems like a long day that won’t end. Maybe I’m like most other people when they lose a friend or loved one. Do you mostly think of the day they left or do you cherish the life they lived? Do you visit their tombstone at the cemetery to feel close to them or do you feel their presence more somewhere else? There are so many other wonderful memories to hang on to. Not this day.
I write. I also take a lot of pictures. I print these pictures. They either end up in the numerous albums lining the bookshelves in our family room, or they are scrap booked. It is a huge fear of mine that somewhere many years from now I will regret not taking enough pictures or videos all these special memories in life. I don’t think I dwell on this fear. I enjoy life and have fun while I’m taking pictures and I’m not this crazed person constantly yelling, ‘Look here! Smile!’ But I make sure and get enough so that I will never forget that two year old face, that first time my kids met their new baby brother or sister, the holidays, reunions, parties, sports, playing in the mud…. ok so I take a lot.
So the days and weeks after my dad passed away I started of course looking at pictures. I spent hours digging through so many old family albums and my own pictures. Memories of love, laughter and a wonderful man flooded from the glossy prints. There were too many. I found myself gathering up my favorites and putting them on my night stand looking at them daily. At the time we only had our two oldest boys who were 2.5 years and 15 months old. My first emotion after losing my dad was anger and bitterness that Will and Cole wouldn’t remember their Papaw; a man who loved them more than they would understand. I knew I could help them know this special person by telling them stories about him as well as showing them pictures. The result was ‘The Papaw Book.’ I chose my favorites out of hundreds of pictures of Dad including times he spent with his grandsons and times with me, their mom. This is an amazing book. I have recommended this idea to others when they are coping with the loss of a loved one. When I showed the Papaw Book to little Will he absolutely loved it. He was not yet three, but he understood my sadness and the importance of this book. He slept with it for several months and even packed it in his traveling bag. For almost a year this book stayed under his pillow. He and I would sit down and look through it with Cole who of course didn’t understand or remember but enjoyed the stories I would tell. Even now, at eight years old, Will has this very special book in his bed side table and I have caught him looking through it. They both talk about Papaw like they remember him; eating snacks in bed with him, camping with him, and how he called Cole ‘Big Eyes’ and ‘Coletrain.’ They also know stories about him from times long before they were born.
The day we lost him was a terrible, horrible day that my mind wants to forget but can’t. His life though was beautiful. Through our pictures, all of us can remember the lives of those we can no longer see or touch. The Papaw Book will last forever just like our memories of him.
My Dad Book