Papa

On Monday, 26th March 2012, Thomas William "Bill" Fredrick left this earth to be with our Lord forever.

From the youngest age I can remember, Papa was there for me no matter what. He'd always be waiting with open arms and a huge smile on his face any time he saw me. Papa was the picture-perfect grandfather; loving, patient, caring. Since my dad's father passed away when I was pretty young, even though I loved him dearly, I didn't get to know him that well. Papa was different.

When my brother and I would sleep over at Mimi and Papa's house, Mimi would tuck us in bed in their guest room, then Papa would come in and tell us these great bedtime stories. He always had one ready; each of them starred a character named Uncle Henry (I don't know if he was real or not, nor if he was actually related to us) and his dog. Though I, to my dismay, can't remember any individual Uncle Henry tale, I do remember how thunderstruck I was at Uncle Henry's courage and fantastic adventures despite being only about 8 years old.

I remember once, when I was a tantrum-throwing second grader, I had a $25 gift certificate to Build-A-Bear. I was so excited...there was this one new bunny I really wanted to get, but my mom told me to wait. That weekend, I stayed with Mimi and Papa, and I knew that if I played the Sweet Baby Granddaughter card I could beg them to take me to Build-A-Bear and have them buy me that bunny. I know. I feel horrible about it, looking back on it. Little did I know that Mom had given Papa the certificate, and after I (well, really Mimi) had already bought the bunny complete with a dress and bows for her ears, he walked wordlessly out of the store with another one exactly like it - my free bunny. I felt so ashamed, but I think he taught me a lesson that day; when you want something, wait for it, and don't force things to go your way.

When I was in seventh grade, Papa started having blood pressure problems. He blacked out often, resulting in many bruises, scrapes, and even a broken spinal bone once. I got so scared; I thought he was going to die within that year. I remember once I had an extremely vivid dream that I was at his funeral, peering into his coffin. Anyway, this continued for a long and stressful two year period, until a few weeks ago. He and Mimi had moved to a new assisted living place, called Oak Hill, and I thought he was recovering. Apparently, I was wrong. He passed away in his sleep last night, at approximately 9 o'clock.

I'd been meaning to go visit them after they moved from Watermere to Oak Hill, but could never get around to it. Honestly, I didn't want to see them; it scared me to see them wasting away the way they were. That really wasn't a good excuse though...I mean, they were still the same people. I should have visited them more often.

What are the stages of grief? I really don't think they exist...I'm feeling pretty much every single one right now except for the positive stages.

If you're the praying type, please keep me and my family, and especially Papa's soul, in your prayers. Thank y'all so much...I love each and every one of you, though I don't know all of you personally.

Love from your faithful blogger and (David's girl)friend,
Meridith