As I was thinking about journaling this week, I thought my main topic was going to be about how Connor gave himself a frenectomy on Sunday and how seeing him hurt was not easy. I have no words for what I'm actually going to write because my heart cannot make sense of what has happened. Daddy is gone. I have lost my daddy, Connor has lost his grandpa. I know I will see him in the future but there are so many things I am going to miss. So many memories I was looking forward to making.
Connor, let me tell you about your grandpa. He was so proud of you, and he loved you so much. You were his very first grandchild, and he thought you were so amazing. He was a sensitive man, and had a lot of wisdom. He was never one to shy away from his opinion, though he was always quick to say "Now, you don't have to do what I say, but this is what I think...". Of course because of what he said you knew you were going to take his advice. He had a great sense of humor, of which he always said "No one ever laughs at my jokes," but boy would he know what to say. He had the best father of the bride speech I have ever heard. He had the whole room hanging on his soft spoken words. I loved his laugh. He he decided he was going to have a great belly laugh, it brightened the whole room. You knew he was up to something or he thought something was funny when he would wrinkle his nose and purse his lips a certain way. He was humble and didn't give himself the credit for how smart he was. I will miss not having his insight. He was a do-it-yourself-er and knew how to build anything. I had swing sets, tree houses, child sized chairs, bookshelves and all sorts of amazing things created by him. He would have made things for you, I know. He was already preparing the cabin for the coming years of you playing there. You both had so much fun together there this year. You would climb up into his lap to get him to play with you, and he would lay down on the ground and get you to roll cars back and forth. He was trying to figure out how soon he could get you up on his motorcycle. That was his outlet. Motorcycles were a passion of his. He would ride the way some people would jog. To clear his mind and feel invigorated. He loved to swim and dive as well. He was a fish in the water, and so graceful off of a diving board. He would have had you swimming soon, he was the reason we introduced you to the water so quickly. I'm so sad that he will not be able to teach you the strokes or how to water ski. I promise you will learn, but he was such a good teacher. He loved to help people and was never afraid to get his hands dirty and chip in. He loved to put his dirty hands in my face and tease me. He was sentimental and would hold on to things for the memories they held. He loved the Lord, and I have memories of him with his Bible by his bed side. He and grandma made sure we grew up going to church, just like daddy and I take you to church. He believed in tough love, and would tell me "no" if he knew I didn't need something or just to make me a better person and not spoiled. He spoiled me in other ways. I knew he loved me, he told me all the time. Every time I would get off the phone with him he would say, "I love all three of you". Tim was a son to him, you held such a special place, and I was his little girl. You will hear stories about grandpa as you grow, from all of us. Your uncles and aunts have a big job of helping his memory stay alive for you. I hate that we're are all so spread out right how, but he would be happy to know we will all be with each other soon, for him. I know as the days go by it will be easier, and my heart won't hurt as much, but right now your sweet little laugh helps get me through the day. You have his eyes, the same interesting color of grandpa's eyes stare back at me when I look at you. They were such kind, loving eyes, full of love.