Papa's boy. Papa Loves you.

I consider my ancestors, my predecessors often. One of the biggest losses for me was my mom's dad, Papa. I think at his funeral I mourned both my dad's mom (Grandmother) and him, but it seemed like who I saw as the patriarch of our family was gone.

No, it wasn't that that made me sob, it was because this difficult man, with a huge ego, made such huge changes in his social and political views mostly because of his grandkids.

Whatever latent hillbilly racism that was in him, I always was told by him to stand up for the rights of blacks. He would tell me stories of doing so in his workplace. When I brought home a boyfriend that who was mixed (black dad/white mom), Papa treated him with respect I could tell he liked him.

Lemme back up though, Papa and Mama wouldn't come to Russell and my wedding. They sent a note explaining that they weren't there yet but they loved us both and we were welcome in their home.

Then Russell died. They came to the memorial service. They saw the love in the room. Papa later told me he wished he had come. He told me of when he stood up against homophobic comments in his camper RV park in FL. He would grab my hand and always tell me, as he does all his grandkids, Papa loves you. And as he would with all his grandkids he would give unsolicited advice usually along the lines of don't take shit from no body. When we were alone he would tell me how proud he was of me and there's nothing wrong with me.

Skip to after the abovementioned bf, I fell into dark times and Papa knew I was struggling with some pretty serious stuff. They all worried about my safety. Papa shared some of his struggles and always would take my hand and tell me he loves me, he's proud of me, Papa's boy he would say. i pulled away awkwardly unable to take in how much love he was offering, but I knew he was trying hard.

This a man with an 8th grade education from the hollars of Eastern KY who moved to work in the factories to raise his kids and give them a better life. He was a hard man, but his words worked their way into my heart so that when he died, I felt the loss.

Papa's boy. Papa's proud of you. Don't let anybody tell you different. I love you.

I love you too Papa and proud of you too. I always was.