I miss you.

You had many names Charles Raymond Shelburne, Sr., Skeeter, - but you were my Papa. Growing up I remember playing in the pool where you would sweep me into the air and dangle my toes in the water. Your house had stairs to play on and round ice cubes for our drinks. The very first time I ever saw snow – I was holding your hand.


And I loved you so.

At night we’d snuggle on the couch and I’d watch your John Wayne movies because you’d watch my fairy tales. The next day we’d pick fresh, warm strawberries and even in the winter you had frozen ones to go with our rainbow sherbet that you never ran out of. In the summer we’d go out into the garden and eat tommy-toe tomatoes together until our bellies hurt.

And I loved you so.

You always smelled like Old Spice and peppermint. You would take me and my sisters anywhere we wanted to go on our special days. We’d even go to McDonald’s to order hotdogs – which they never once had – but you always acted surprised.

And I loved you so.

As a child, I marveled at your hats and your walking sticks from the woods; how big and strong your hands were; how the tip of your tongue would wiggle when you were really concentrating; how you could turn your basement into a greenhouse; how wonderful you were. Never once did you upset me. Never once were you cross with me.

And I loved you so.

When I was sixteen years old, you drove a bright, blue Jeep. I told you you were the coolest Papa ever. When I got married last year, you told me that “loving someone was easy to do, but loving them right – everyday no matter what – that was the hard part.” I told you that you made it look easy and that

I loved you so.

The first time I saw you in the nursing home your eyes looked tired. I kissed you on the cheek on you didn’t smell like Old Spice. I gave you a tommy toe tomato and you spit it out. You’d forgotten that you no longer had your bright, blue Jeep. But you held my hand and you told me that you loved me so.

I honestly don’t know just how to tell you goodbye or explain to anyone how very much I will miss my sweet Papa. But when I close my eyes and think of you up in heaven, I just know that when you bump into an angel and they ask you how you are doing, you will smile that handsome smile and say, “I’m fine as frog’s hair and twice as smooth.”

And they will love you so…