My DadI know I've written about him on here from time to time, but I don't know if words could ever really express the kind of man he was. He wasn't perfect. But he was so loved, by so many. He was incredibly generous--a couple of years ago we were at Benihana for our annual Christmas Eve traditional dinner and there was a couple sitting with us. He started talking to them and at the end of our meal, he discreetly paid their bill. He gave everyone a second chance (and in my case, thousands of them). He was the most amazing Grandfather--I've never seen a Grandpa, at the age of 77, crawl around on the floor playing cars with his 2 year old grandson the way he did with 6. He would call me, leave me a message and say "Hi Jules, it's Pops, call me when you can"...as if I wouldn't recognize his voice. I'm 39 years old, married for almost 10 years, and he still gives me gas money when we go home to visit. I was his little girl, he was my Daddy, my Papa, Pops.
I talked to him today, around noon. He was really excited about our new car and asked us to plan a road trip soon to Michigan so he could see us. I put him on speaker so he could talk to 6 (Lilly was outside). 6 grabbed a photo of him and started crying, he was so frustrated that he could hear "boppa" but couldn't see him. He sounded tired, but that wasn't unusual--he typically dozed in his chair watching various golf tournaments on TV and I figured I had woken him up when I called.
Two hours later, my sister called saying Dad was gasping for air and she had called 911. She called back a bit later saying he was unconscious but had a pulse. She called from the hospital to say they were working on him. And then she called to say he had died.
I knew this day would come, of course I did. But I didn't know it would be so soon. So many of the people I've spoken with today have said "I thought he'd live forever" and you know, that's kind of how I felt too. I certainly didn't think he'd go before my Mom.