Rest In Peace, Papou

I'm writing this before the funeral today.

Papou is the Greek word for grandfather. It's a perfect word for small mouths to make as they are learning to talk. It matches the big smiling funny guy who wears it. My kids were lucky to know their Papou for as long as they did, and so was I.

He was old country and old school. What he believed became truth and anyone who disagreed with him just didn't understand things clearly yet. I learned early on to avoid conversations about politics.

He came to America in 1947 with his brother and was forced to study engineering instead of the business degree he craved. Many years later he went back and got that degree. His life's journey wasn't an easy one, and it's taught me a lot about the determination of those who came to America and made it a better place.

We've been going through a lot of pictures lately, to make a collage to display at the funeral. 50 year old pictures, yellowed with time, capturing faint moments but now representing years in a life. Travels around the globe working engineering jobs, a young stylish wife and two small children in tow. Contented smiles around a dinner table with friends, displaying the traditional Christmas morning attire of a new necktie over pajamas.

Then there are the stacks of newer pictures. A dozen smiling poses at his son's wedding, which was my wedding. And finally, the Papou grins. The smile one gets when they hold grandchildren in their hands.

I'm crying now, and I don't really know where I wanted to go with this post, except to say goodbye Papou, we love you.