My Papa left this world. For some reason its bumming me out more this year than I remember last year. Strange. So I thought I would write a little post about how awesome he was.
I had a lot of nicknames for him. Pupsky. Ralphina. Ralphy. I spent at least three nights a week sleeping over their house (this would be the Papa that goes with the Nana who I spend lots of time with) while Mom worked nights. Their house is right around the corner from my elementary school, so I walked there after school most days. Papa liked to make me snacks, either for after school or while I watched TV in the evenings. He would give me little pieces of cheese, crackers, olives and artfully cut veggies. I loved them and called them Ralphina snacks. Sometimes, I make them now and smile remembering him. At dinner, he would give me the teensiest little blue mug with my apple juice. He would lean back onto the light switch and dim the lights at dinner, too, and act like it had happened on its own. He always managed to mangle his napkin and sometimes he would hang it on his ear when I wasn't looking.
He gave me my nose. And always said he'd love to have his nose full of nickels.
Once, after watching Small Wonders we re-enacted a dance that Vici and the grandfather had done for my Nana. In the kitchen with Papa belting out the beat "bah Bah bah." I remember him teaching me to waltz at a Christmas party at the house I grew up in. Because of him, I know all the words to many Kenny Rogers songs. In New Orleans, we requested one of the street singers to play Jambalaya for him while we were eating beignets at Cafe Du Monde. That was the best trip ever.
I wish he had taught me French, like started when I was a baby. He spoke perfect French. So perfect he was a translator in the war and French people thought he was from France.
I loved listening to his stories of the old days. He could tell a good story. I recorded some, but still haven;t been able to listen to them. Hearing his voice freaks me out.
He loved to be in Maine and he made being on the island fun. He loved to clam, and he loved Nana's cooking of his clams even more.
He was definitely like a second Dad to me. He was my number one fan in a way that only Dads can be. Boy, was I lucky to have TWO number one fans! Papa always loved my Dad. :) He read every article I ever wrote for my college newspaper and made sure to tell me how great they were and discuss them with me.
I'm sure he would read my blog. Maybe he does.
I know he would have been excited about my dolls and probably would have helped me make stuff for them like furniture and other gadgets. He was a true inventor and he made some cool things for my doll house and American Girl dolls when I was little. He loved photography and probably would have a nice DSLR before I had mine.
He would have loved Aaron. They both have/had the same logical way of thinking. Aaron loves to see some of the things that Papa rigged up around their house. In Maine, he even asked once "did your Papa do this?" He can tell his handiwork. They both went to the same college. I hate that Aaron never met him. But Mom and Wendi think he sent him to me.
I think the worst feeling I've ever felt is knowing that I'll never get to talk to him again. Well, I talk to him all the time, but knowing that I can never sit next to him and tell him about my day. And for some reason, that just keeps hitting me this week.
Blah.
So I am off to church with Nana and my Mom and some other assorted relatives to remember him. He was very strong in his faith and sometimes I feel like maybe I should be.
So call the old peeps (and even the not so old peeps) in your life today, bloggy friends, and tell them you love them. Listen to their stories, enjoy every moment because you WILL miss it.
xoxo
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