My Opa Kamerman. I don't remember much, but I do remember him enough to know I wish he was still here. I remember what his voice and laugh sounded like, and I remember his hands. They were arthritic, but they still played with his grand kids. I remember talking on the phone with him and Oma, and I still remember when he made me a doll house and cradle.
And I remember when he died. I remember being too shy to give him a back rub in the hospital, and I remember crying when my mom left me with my aunt so she could go be with him. I remember the funeral, and seeing him in the coffin, but I don't remember feeling sad. Even though he played with me, spoiled me, and loved me, I didn't cry, I didn't miss him.
I miss him now, a lot. I have to remind myself that even though I wasn't exactly grateful for him when he was around, I did still enjoy him. I would give anything to have him back, but knowing what pain he was in while still here, I am so happy I can't.
♥
This man LOVED his grandchildren so much. A real gentleman. Godly.
ReplyDeleteThere were so many things he would have loved to teach you. I miss him too.