papa’s eulogy

My Papa was not a man of very many words.

For me, being a writer and a very verbal person, I at times found that to be difficult.
I was not very close with my Poppa, but my whole life, he was there as the quiet figure in the corner.

When I think back on all the times I was with him, he was always busy making sure everything was perfect — that the freezer was turned on a day early to make room for the Christmas turkey, that the girls had the highchair brought up for them. He did many things for us, things I never even knew he was responsible for. He’d pay the fare for my family to enjoy Lakeside, he’d blow up the motorboat just for my sisters and I to putter around the lake once or twice. He was a man of routine. It was the way we’d have to beg him to play the drums, and they’d have to be perfectly aligned, the right record spinning, and it was all magic from there.

If you were to ask me some memorable quotes, I would not be able to give you a single one. But I could tell you that I always make sure I turn off the lights when I leave a room, or I always lock the doors of the car when sitting at the gas station. These are trends of Papa in my life, everyday.

My Papa worked hard to establish a good life for my family and I. It’s a humble way of loving, a love that doesn’t ask for anything in return. It is because of him I know I have a way to help to pay off my educational expenses — that is my dream, to go to University.

It’s difficult to miss the quiet. It’s hard to identify the absence of something that never boasted its presence, but I do. I won’t forget you, Papa. I blame you for my furious love of jazz. Thank you for all you did for me, for us. I am determined to work just as hard as you did and create an equally secure life for myself and my family. Say hello to Julie for me.

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