When I think of Papa, I think of this fiesty *old man climbing the rocks of Garden of the Gods.
I think of a man who lived. Who was always willing to live.
Yes, Papa has a lot of stories to tell. Let him tell.
The father of seven boys. You can tell they’re brothers.
I can only imagine my stunning grandmother in the 50s and 60s … with child … for 10 years.
What a treat it’s been to spend time with my Papa. I love you, Papa.
Be well. Please stay. I understand you are stable. Please be comfortable. (Tell your loved ones present if you aren’t.) Papa, be comfortable.
*I don’t mean “old” in a stereotypical (Senile? If you will…) way. But imagine this elderly, fiesty fellow …. hiking for heaven’s sake. Hiking.