Papa

I started this blog after Mike decided to take himself away from this world. I thought that I needed a place to write, but then did not end up using this blog as that kind of place, or really to use it at all.

I grew up journaling, writing stories...I just liked to write. My Papa wrote in journals every day. I am not sure when he started, and I would assume that he stopped as he was diagnosed with cancer. That is one of my fondest memories of him actually. As my Auntie Sherri would say, our family was the only one who left Vancouver Island and moved "overseas." But we visited family on the Island a lot. I have so many memories of the whole Watson side, but of my Papa in particular. You love your grandparents, and you cherish times spent with them, but I have always had this immense love and respect for my Nanny and Papa.

I remember how Papa used to sit in the loveseat in their big old house, him and Nanny would sit there, by the door on the outside of the room. Which is really quite perfect because he was a quiet, sit back, and be proud kind of guy, much like my Dad is when the family is all together. But he would sit on that loveseat (that now sits on our living room) and fall asleep. I had never seen anyone sit up, be active in conversation, and then fall asleep, head back, just as he was, but fast asleep. I don't recall my dad ever doing that. But I do know that I can fall asleep just about anywhere, at just about any time. If I am the passenger in the car, I will be asleep shortly after we hit the highway. The same with the bus, the couch, you name it.

I remember Papa, on that same loveseat, writing in his journal. We never knew what he wrote about, and I don't remember ever being curious. I liked to write, so it was just natural that he would like to write, it wasn't strange. It is funny what time and age does to journal writing. After he passed away we browsed through a couple of his old journals, and it was just day to day things. Things that he had done, what his kids or his grandkids had been up to, or about trips they had taken. Simple things. "Similar" to what I had written about as a child, day to day things. But I do remember writing about how Carrie had made me mad, or the boy at school that I thought was cute. The important things then...thank goodness the things that matter in life have progressed with my age!

Nanny and Papa's house looked so small on the outside, but it was just so big and cozy on the inside - any house that allows the whole Watson Clan to come and stay over and for every child to have a bed is considered huge to me! But I remember goodnights in that big house because there were always extra people to hug. We would hug and kiss Nanny and we would hug Papa and wait for him to put his hands on either sides of our head and pull us in for a kiss on the forehead. How cute is that? On the forehead! We all know that as we get older it gets a little more uncomfortable to kiss your family members; I suppose that is why Papa kissed our foreheads. Maybe that's why Dad high-fives Lizzie and Kai!

Family and holiday get-togethers were always the greatest for so many reasons. We always got along so well with our cousins, and we were so lucky to have cousins that were 1, 2, and 3 years older than us. We had so much fun when we were together, and we were so lucky to grow up just adoring the people we had been so blessed with, and to call family.

Papa would always sit at the head of the table, as is tradition I guess, as Dad sits at the head of our table too. He would cut the turkey, and then he would make the speech. I wish I could remember his speeches more clearly. I mentioned how well we got along with our cousins, well, we were always put together at the kiddie table that attached the the big adult table, and as much as we loved eachother, it did not always bode well for paying close attention to Papa's speeches. I have not spent a lot of time with other families during the holidays, so I do not know what people's traditions are. I know Brady's family, and my only other serious boyfriend's family did not have someone to make speeches at family gatherings. They didn't have people to stand up and remind us all of how important what we have actually is, and to remind us that not all family's share this kind of love, and that we really are blessed by all that we have. I remember him standing up and making the speech, I just wish I could remember what the words were.
My Dad makes speeches at family gatherings, and at weddings my Mom and Dad both make speeches. They are such wonderful, loving people, and I know that we (the 4 siblings) do not need reminders about how much we are loved, but it is always so nice to hear it. I am glad that Dad continued what Papa began. I remember one year in particular, I am not sure why it is so clear, because it probably happened every year...that Papa cut the turkey, and put one of the legs on his own plate. When it was time to eat, he did not use a fork, he just picked up the leg and began eating right off of it. I think it is funny that I remember this at all, because that is exactly how I would have approached the turkey leg. But I grew up with two VERY different sets of grandparents and Papa was always the "proper" one to me- maybe it just caught me off guard. Dad hates messy food, and not only wouldn't have taken the leg, but he certainly wouldn't have picked it up and ate it.

Something set me off the other day on my drive home from work. It was a good day at work, and I certainly didn't have anything to be sad about. but it was just music and memories at work I guess. I remember when Papa got sick, he was stuck in bed in their house. I suppose it was a great thing that he could be at home, and that he didn't have to spend all of his time in the hospital. I wonder how it came about that he got to stay at home and not at the hospital, I wonder if it was his decision. That would be a hard decision to make I think - being the kind of man that Papa was. I remember how unsure I was during that last stage of his life. Unsure of what he was going through, as I guess I didn't really realize that he would die and we would all never be the same. Maybe you don't think of that when you are a teenager, perhaps that was a blessing. I remember going into their house and Nanny would greet us, but Papa was in the bedroom. Mom and Dad would go in and we would visit with Nanny for awhile. I did not always go into the bedroom to say hi to Papa right away, and I know that I did not pop in many times during the day to say hi to him. How must that have made Papa feel? He was sick and in bed, and his grandchildren were so close to him, just in the other room, but he couldn't interact with us the way that he was used to. But not only that, we were not interacting with him the way that we usually did. I hope that he understood it, and that it didn't hurt him.
When Gary, Gayle, and Scott would come over, I so clearly remember Gayle saying to Scott right away, "go say hi to your Papa." Scott would go right in and spend time with just him and Papa. Why was I not brave enough to do that? Did I know I would cry? Or did I not know what to say or how to act?

When I caught my first fish out on the boat with Gary and Gayle, we brought it home and I went into Papa's bedroom with my fish in a dish to show him my catch! He was so proud, not with the energy he would have normally showed me, but proud nonetheless. If he weren't sick, I wonder what he would have said? One of the hard things about someone you love passing away is the questions. But I find that one of the things that makes my Papa's not being here easier is my Dad. It is funny the things that I remember about my Papa, and how similar my Dad was to him. In the way they demonstrated pride and love, in the way they just make their families want to be close, all the time. They are similar in the way that they quietly sit back and admire. They don't need to get in the middle of the craziness that is a large family, they just want to soak it all in. When I have questions like the ones above, I can just ask myself what my Dad would do, and that - I feel, gives me a pretty clear idea of what my Papa would have done. I am very thankful for that.