Happy Birthday Papa

Today would have been your 92nd birthday.  I can't remember how you sounded when you said my name anymore, but do still remember how you would say, "Shit, Billie!", which in a funny way cheers me up for forgetting the latter.

I would steer the tractor sitting on your knee while you would sing and whistle "Zippidy Doo Dah" in my ear. Yup, I still remember that.  You would put barrettes in my hair everyday for school, even though you were missing your right arm.  You could drive a stick, cut a steak, tie a tie - there was nothing you couldn't do.  I can still smell you - Old Spice, onions, fresh cut grass, and gasoline.

There will always be a hole in my heart that no one will fill.  I think to myself it would all be easier if it hadn't felt like you were already taken away from me early due to Alzheimer's.  I wish the greatest man in my life could have really met and given me his blessing when meeting the man I would marry the day I announced I was engaged.  Thank you for always making me feel like a princess, Papa.  You'll always be my Superman.