I don't regret a lot in my life. I have no "most embarrassing moment". Usually things roll of my back pretty easily..but I do have guilt in my heart for one thing.
Papa died 5 years ago, and I haven't been to see him. Never seen his headstone. I suppose I could tell myself its not really my fault because Ive been so far away, but Ive come back for visits and we've just "never gotten to it" or "ran out of time". I regret somethings that I know I couldn't change. Like that I was too young to talk to him about things I wish I could have his opinion on now. life, love, faith, character...chemistry. ha ha. He was insanely intelligent. He had more books than Ive ever seen...about everything. He did research for ECU for the environmental health department, he taught on and and off as well...He just wanted to know things. but he was never prideful..... Mammy used to have to go to "wive's parties" and was so embarrased because she felt like she was just a farm girl with no education and he would tell her "everyone wipe's their ass the same way, Joann."...He loved her with more vigor than ive seen since..no Nicholas Sparks book could ever live up to the way he loved her...loved us. He was so strong willed and barrel chested...6'3 and movie star good looks (I think). My grandparents met when Mammy was 15. He left for Alaska when she was 16 and they married when she was 17. He came home 3 weeks early from Alaska after being gone for a year. Mammy and her brothers and sisters had gone to a drive in move and were getting their pajamas on when a knock came to the door. Mammy checked the door, hoping but doubting it would be him...I imagine...because that's how I would be. There he was...with a ring. Huge surprise. I hope I have a surprise like that one day...none of this planning and pressuring that girls my age are so fond of lately.
He was silent some times...most times, sometimes for days...but he laughed alot, and I loved that laugh...
He would take my grandmother and I out for breakfast every morning during my visits and when we'd get out of bed in the morning he would say "there's my girls". In the car he would always put his hand on Mammy's knee without saying a word.
I imagine him as a big redwood tree. Big, strong, wise..but never menacing.
He would do anything for anyone and he was my first impression of what a "good man" is supposed to be. I didn't realize this until after he died but it was like a huge realization that just came over me and i cant even call it anything else but an inexplicable, soulful "understanding" that just ingrained itself into me. The hardest part for me was my birthday this year...we had always planned for me to be out here eventually and Papa always said he's help me with my chemistry if I took it...but his birthday is August 5th and mine is the 15th so during my summer visits we would meet in the middle and have it on the 10th. One time my aunt got us a cake that had horses on one half and fishing on the other. Our birthday. ha ha.
I'm sure he had so much to say about the things that go on in my life. I regret all the time calling the house and immediately asking "Is mammy there?".. instead of talking to him. He wouldn't believe the way she pushes people away. She used to be different.. but in theory, she died with him.
I need to go see him. He's buried in Holdenville but I don't know how to get there by myself. I don't wanna go by myself either, really. But I need to go before I go with Mammy. I need to get it out for myself and talk to him saying what I have to say before I can comfort her...and I don't want her to have to comfort me, but I feel like I should wait. I wanna wait for someone special to go with. Someone who knows the whole story and knows how tender hearted I am and knows that EVERYTHING means something to me..and that the tiniest things can make a lifetime memory for me...because I'll remember my first visit forever. I need someone to go with that's like him...quietly knowing, instantly comforting, and tenderly loving. At least I learned from all this, not to settle for anything else.
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