PaPaw Ford

I got a call last week, on Feb. 6, that Papaw was ready to pass. I made it on a plane, and joined my family at his bedside. From my perspective, papaw had already died when I arrived, but his breathing mechanisms hadn't completely shut down. He officially passed into the arms of Jesus at 4:30 am Feb. 7th. We surrounded his bedside, in prayer, as he took his final breaths. There were no formal services following. For me, it was a beautiful experience. But, then, I've been to some really rough "over-the-top" funerals over the years. I want my death to be honored much like we honored Papaw. Intimately, privately, and quickly.

Funny thing. I loved my papaw, but I can't say I was very close to him. We didn't live in the same state as he while I was growing up, and so I didn't spend much time with him. I did, however, love him. I never knew anyone to say anything cross about him. He was a hardworking, honorable man. A few days after he died and most of the family had gone, my dad and memaw and I went through his dresser. I searched the bottom of his drawers for any unique, personal glimpses into his life. We found drawings of inventions that he'd thought of, pictures from his time in the military (what a handsome man he was!), and a copy of his resume from years ago. His resume much resembled what my husband's might look like, were it updated.

About 15 years ago, Papaw wrote (or began writing) an autobiography. I read much of it then, but only what had been written up to that point. I look forward to it being found, as I would love to finish it. That was probably the closest I got to him. Reading his perfectly formed block letters, words that he put to his own life. His own perceptions about his life. I was so proud to read it, and I was the first... I think it surprised him that his young, teenage granddaughter would spend hours on the couch reading about his accounts of working the fields, sneaking into the military at 16, making memories with his wife and children. I soaked it up, though, and sure hope to read it again sometime.

The visit home during this time of Papaw's passing was such a blessing. Dad stayed the entire visit with me. I stayed at Aunt LouAnn's, and was utterly spoiled by the time I got home. Dad brought me coffee in bed each morning, took care of me when I was down with my back, bought me breakfast, and was just...there. For some this may not be a big deal, but at 31 years old... I still felt like a daddy's girl. I hadn't felt like that for awhile, and it was a hard thing to leave. I think losing papaw was hardest for me, because it made me realize how hard it will be when I lose my own dad. But, that's a different post altogether. Dad did say on the phone the other night just how important family was, and I think he hadn't realized that for many years. As much as I spent those days basking in his love, he was reveling under the watchful eye and gentle touch of his own mother and sister... Love all around....

You will be missed, Papaw, but you proudly left a strong legacy and a wonderful family. We love you.