Dear Papa,

I thought that you were invincible. The man who told me stories of being a Veteran in the war. The man who was a racing hero, and showed me countless pictures of you holding trophies that were bigger than me, standing in front of amazing racecars. The man who could fix anything with a pocketknife, or a kiss- whether it was my scraped knee from riding my bike, or a broken dolly- you could fix it. The man who spent hours with my little hand in his, walking me through each of his impressive machines in his garage, and explaining to me what each one did, and showing me how to make sparks on the grinder, or how to shape a peice of metal on the lathe.

Papa, you are more of a Grandfather than any little girl could ever imagine or dream of.  So many of my fond childhood memories include you, and I was so blessed to have been your little pal when I was a little girl. I loved watching you work on the cars, or going to the auto parts store with you. I loved sitting under the car with you on the Creeper, and me sitting by you, handing you tools. You would tell me what each one did, and years before I ever even drove a car, would show me where the oil goes, how the engine works, or how to change a tire.  I loved the smell of the orange cleaner you’d use to scrub your hands, or the way your hardworking hands had all different “boo boos” all over them from working on the engines- I was fascinated by all of them! But also loved watching the same hands do tender tasks like fix my dolls, or peeling an orange with me when I was supposed to be going to sleep, or “fixing” my ice cream cones, so that they didn’t drip.

It has been such an amazing blessing for me to watch you with my children. One of my favorite pictures of you, is one where you’re holding my Son for the first time, and you’re this strong man, wearing your red racing hat, and in your arms, you’re holding this tiny little baby, and you’re smiling the most beaming smile. I truly cherish that picture! I love watching my kids laugh with you, or Clayton walk around wearing your glasses, or you helping Avery fix her toysl, or listening to you telling them a story, as they sit on your lap, and watch your face with curiosity and amazement, just like I did.

I know that this past month has been incredibly hard on you. I can’t imagine the strength, the hope and the perseverance that it must take to wake up every morning, and keep going despite the challenges and obstacles that have been put upon you. Today, you are having surgery, and I have every confidence that you will do great, and probably even suprise the doctors with how well you do! It will take some fighting and battling to get back to where you need to be, but I know that you can do it. I know that visions of the little ones laughing and dancing while they do performances with your cane as the microphone, or thoughts of the little guy riding all around on his bike wearing your glasses, or sitting with your granddaughter listening to Patsy Cline or Grandpa Jones and talking about “back then”, or spending time with your daughters and laughing and talking about family memories and traditions, these are all very real reasons to get better.

Yes, I am a grown woman now, and a wife and a mother, but I am still the same little girl that admires you. That cherishes your stories, loves seeing you laugh so hard that you have to take off your glasses and wipe your eyes, and treasures the moments that my kids are cuddling next to you, listening to your stories. There are so many more memories to make, Papa. I know that you can do this, because you are  a hero to me, and a man with immeasurable strength. You have so much love around you, from your daughters, your siblings, to your grandchildren, and your great-grandchildren. There are more stories to be told, more dolls and toys to fix, more performances in little princess shoes on a tile floor to watch, more hugs to share, and more laughter to be had. I look forward to many more cherished memories with you.

With so much love, from a Granddaughter that is so blessed to have you as her Papa,

Kristin Noel

“Pat, pitter, pat, pat”, I hear little feet pajamas padding down the wood floor hallway toward my bedroom door, I groggily open one eye and peek at my alarm clock, and it reads “6:03 a.m.”. My first thought is, “I got home from work at 1 a.m…..I’m exhausted! Go back to bed, kid!” The little feet shuffle up to my door, and a sweet little hand gently pushes the door open…pretty brown curly hair and angelic face peer in at me, “Mama, can I get in your bed?” I sigh. My body wants to yell “No- it’s not 7:30 yet- you’re not allowed to get up ’til 7:30- go to your bed”, but my heart takes one look at this little girl, who just wants to cuddle with her Mama, and I say, “Alright, Baby- come on up…but you have to go to sleep!”

My Girl

She smiles so big, her face lights up, and she jumps in my bed, curls up perfectly in front of me, is perfectly quiet, and in minutes is asleep. Usually, I would just crash back out, being tired from working late the night before. But not this morning. I took a second to smell her beautiful hair- still smelling of hairspray that I sprayed all over her curls so that she would have perfect “First day of Kindergarten” pictures. And I held her hand- dirty little fingernails, because she wears her Cinderella princess ballgown, then plays in the dirt with her brother. And I cuddled her in her “Baby jaguar” leopard print foot pajamas that I bought for her last year, then they dragged on the floor they were so big, and now they’re so small on her, she can barely zip them! And instead of falling back to sleep, I think to myself how blessed I am to have a healthy, beautiful little girl who loves her Mama, her Dad, her Brother, and her whole family. A girl who loves to be a pretty princess, but a tomboy at the same time.

Pretty Princess

There will come a day, when little feet no longer pad down the hallway to come snuggle with Mama, or when they stop asking to ride the Merry-go-round and run for the thrill rides instead. Or when they stop believing in magic, in princesses, tooth fairies and Santa. Someday, not too far off in the future, I will no longer be the center of her world,  just a small part of it- friends, school, sports and the beginnings of her own social circle will become her world. So today, I’m going to forget about falling back to sleep, and take this extra hour to be thankful for my daughter, for her wanting to cuddle with me, for her independence, and for her adorable baby jaguar pajamas with the feet.