In the House of Papa

 I spent this past weekend an hour away from home at a very special place. It’s a little house on a country road in a little town. It’s the house my Grandmother was born in. It’s a place where I spent most every summer of my early childhood. It’s a modest little place that my Grandfather re-built and remodeled with his own two hands. It’s the place where my Grandmother still lives.  It’s a place that brings back treasured memories of the greatest man I have ever known.

My Grandfather was an amazing person, and one of the greatest things I ever did was make sure he knew how I much I loved him and all the reasons why. He was dying of cancer and I was not letting him leave this earth without him knowing how much he meant to me and how much he impacted my life.

He was the man in my life since the day  I was born. He was my silly playmate. He helped my mother take care of me financially. He was a constant in my life. I always remember him being there.

He is a man’s man. He served in the Army, fought in the Korean War. He loved the outdoors, nature and wildlife. He always bought American. He loved bow hunting and fishing. He was tall, fit, smart, always tan and an attractive guy. He was always clean cut and liked to wear black. His passion was Archery. He only drank coffee or water. He loved sweets and had dessert every day. He NEVER yelled. He was humble. He was kind and generous. He was a hard-worker. He drove an 18 wheeler. He was tough. He loved looking at beautiful woman and thought all infants were homely. He read the dictionary or encyclopedia before bed. He liked old books. He liked to play the guitar and sing country music. He was always trying to help someone less fortunate. He was funny. He was a great teacher.

As, my Grandfather, he was even better. He was the man that no one could live up to. He was the man that I compared every guy too. He was all that was good in the world, wrapped up in one simple man who I called Papa! He was the man down playing Barbie’s on the floor with me on Christmas Day. He was the man who sang to me all the time and played the guitar while I danced around in my nightgown and slippers. He was the man bringing me donuts and letting me buy “sugar” gum. He was the man learning the lyrics to Vanilla Ice and running around our living room with my pink boom box on his shoulder, yelling kick it one time bbboooyyyyeeeeee. He was the man who asked me to smell his new cologne when it was actually “Deer Urine” he was using to hunt with. He took me fishing; we would pack a lunch and sit on the bank all day. He taught me how to gut and scale fish, but also what everything was inside as we gutted it. He gave me huge heart boxes of chocolate every Valentine’s Day even though he knew I would squish each one and only eat the ones I liked. He was the first man to ever give me a bouquet of flowers and it was when I turned 13 years old. He gave me books all the time and wrote a message in almost every single one. I saw my very first movie with him, Pinocchio. He taught me how to shoot Archery. He believed in me and thought I was good enough to enter me in NYS Championships, but wasn't mad when I froze and cried because I had to shoot on the line with the "youth" and not beside him. He was the person I always had to sit next to at dinner. He would make me fake cough so I could have some of his medicine…that Medicine was M&M’s. He was the man my Mom heard me sobbing over in my room one night because he was on the road working and I missed him. That same man came home that night and came straight to our house in the middle of the night to see me. He taught me to love animals all animals and how to treat them. He taught me to fight for what I truly believe but also about compromise. He would take fresh water out of the well with a pail and give me a drink on a hot summer day although on the other hand he did convince me to drink pickle juice from the jar once. He came to my baby shower so he could record it and of course brought his own gift. He told me over and over when my first son was born that “there is something special about this boy, he feels like the next JFK”. I got engaged and he reminded me all the time that I was not just marrying my Husband but his entire family. He constantly reminded me never to give up or hate my sister because some day he and my parents will be gone and she will be all I have. He was the man in the back of the church before the doors opened that said “Babe, Are you sure? I will walk you out of here right now” He walked me down that aisle to my Dad who walked me the rest of the way. He was the man that I named my first son after. He was and always will my Grandfather.

When I think back to simpler times, I wonder who will make this kind of impact on my boys. It’s a different time, I know. You can buy a kid anything or take them on fancy trips sure. But, there will never be a day where they sit on the grass with someone special, a fishing pole and their lunch and actually talk all day!!!  

I may not have grown up in a big ole city, had the fanciest of everything or traveled the world but it’s worth it because if I did I would have missed out on all this….and this these treasured memories is what made me the woman I am today!!!!!!!!!

Love and Thanks Forever Papa!!!

Al Manning 6/1/34 ~ 4/23/2003