5 Years Too Long

Five years ago today, one of the best men in the world went to be with our sweet Lord. Five years ago today, my grandfather's suffering and year-long battle with cancer ended. Let me just give you a little background about the one and only Tom Blackwell.

When I was little, Papa Tom stayed with me while my parents worked. Papa was the first one to take me to the zoo, the one who took me on my first MARTA ride, the one who watched Mr. Roger's with me. When I was like, five, Papa taught me how to type properly on the computer. Like, um, who does that with a five year old. Papa. When I was in middle school we went to the pasture at the bottom of his property, got into his jeep, and it was then and there that he taught me how to drive. Papa let me help him measure out property lines in elementary school, he helped me create a cell out of play-doh in the fourth grade. Papa took pictures of me whenever we passed a county sign because he wanted me to do a project on the 159 counties in Georgia. My papa was a unique man.

But not only was Papa special to me, he was special to everyone he encountered. He made everyone feel as though they were right at home. He would ask perfect strangers about their personal lives and about their families, but he asked it in a way that no one minded telling him. He was the most organized man I've ever met, and he would sit down with big yellow legal pads and tell us lists of things that he was going to do, and he would draw diagrams to illustrate stories. (If anybody wants to know where I got my love of detailed storytelling from, it came from Papa). 

The other thing that I inherited from my papa is my love of learning. Papa was a teacher for years, a biology/botany teacher. I knew more about dang plants than any other third grader, let me tell ya. When I went to high school, my passion for learning came out even more in my biology classes. I attribute my love of biology and science in general to Papa. I wanted to be a good biology student for him, so I threw myself into it. I saw the way that Papa talked about his years of teaching and his students, and that's definitely something that has inspired me to go into teaching.

 The last weekend that I saw my Papa was hard. When I said goodbye to him, everybody in the room cried because they knew how hard it was for both of us. The last thing he said to me was "Don't let anybody change what you believe." He said this very faintly and weakly, but I know that's what he said. I have tried to make Papa proud. I am firm in my beliefs. Papa is the happiest man ever in Heaven, praising Jesus all day long, singing his favorite song Great is Thy Faithfulness. I hope that I am living my life in a way that is pleasing and glorifying to the Lord, but also one that would make my papa proud. 

We miss you, Papa. {August 7th, 1942- February 18th, 2010}