Yesterday would have been Poppa Bill's 82nd birthday. Unfortunately, this August, cancer took what was one of the greatest men I have ever been privileged to know.
At Poppa's funeral, a family member spoke of how "Bill loved a party. Birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, golf scores, whatever. Hell, if he was here today he'd want to have a party just cause its Thursday!" Well yesterday would have been a day he wanted to party. I am sure he did just that, and it probably looked like this. When I called Mima, she was understandably emotional, and it brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. But I reflected on that quote, and how true it is. Soon enough we were laughing and speaking of his great qualities. Talking about all the great memories they had amassed in 62years of marriage. We talked about all he had accomplished in his life, how they had been married when he was 19 and she 18, and how he could not of possibly envisioned the life that lay before him at that time.
During our conversation, I was again struck by how incredible my grandma has been throughout this process. When cancer began to take its hold, she steadfastly stuck to her instincts and kept him home, with his family. She stayed by his side, and remained as strong, beautiful and composed as one could possibly imagine. It was her commtment to her instincts that allowed for him to spend his final days like this.
Before we hung up, she told me her evening plans: "We're gonna take some of Poppa's ashes and spread them in the Great Pacific. I baked a birthday cake." She is Awesome.