I’ve been radio-silent for the past few weeks. On February 16, Justin’s Papa Theron passed away. It was hard on all of us. He had cancer and he fought his best fight.
I haven’t experienced a loss of this magnitude in my adult life. It was hard losing my own grandfather at the age of 7 or 8, but experiencing a loss as an adult is a difficult thing in another whole realm of complexities. Explaining to Wyatt that his PawPaw was in Heaven was difficult. He still didn’t fully understand it (asking where exactly Heaven was and if we could drive there to visit) and even walked into Mr. Theron and Mrs. Whilden’s house the next day asking where he was.
I am glad he had the time to spend with his PawPaw, although it will never be long enough. I really hope we can keep his memories alive for Wyatt and for our future babies.
For a short time, there were four generations of Cook men that gathered together at least weekly to spend time together.
I never met my maternal grandparents or any of my great-grandparents, so I know that his ability to experience life with three great-grandparents and all four grandparents was a true gift I hope Wyatt will appreciate. I hope he remembers his PawPaw’s standard uniform of a Bass Pro hat and a Carhartt shirt, love of gardening, laughs when he hears how Theron harassed me when Justin and I started dating about being a “little Yankee gal,” and his laugh. I hope he can appreciate when we tell him stories about how proud he was when we visited him and told him we were having a Cook grandboy. HA! That day he hung a picture of Wyatt’s sonogram with a big arrow and the word “BOY” pointing at his junk on his fridge and it’s still there to this day.
The day of the funeral was brilliant and warm and so perfect. After the funeral, we all changed out of our dress clothes and headed out to the field. We cut up the 100 pounds of seed potatoes he bought for the family garden and Amanda, Michael, Justin, Jake, Ben, Rivers, and I planted potatoes. It seemed like exactly what he would have wanted.
Grannie Whilden has advanced Alzheimer’s disease and has moved in with Mr. Sheldon and Mrs. Desiree. It is so strange driving by their house and knowing there isn’t anyone there. I am glad for the memories we had and the time we were able to spend together. He will surely be missed.