We've been living in this house for 5 years to the day. I remember because that's the day my father died. I'd spent a week at the VA Hospital in Arizona and flew home the night he died. I know he waited for me to leave. My dad was like that; always wanting to do things his way. I'd like to think he did it out of love a little too. Like maybe he didn't want me to have to go through it the way he had to go through everyone in his life dying. When my dad was 6 weeks old his mother died of pneumonia. He never even knew her. When he was 14 his father died and basically he was on his own. I can't even imagine what that must have been like for him.
Robby wasn't born until my dad had been dead for over 3 years. He never got to see how amazingly perfect his grandson is. Robby is named for two grandfathers he never knew; two very different men. ThePapa's father was Robert and he left even before I got to meet him. We always knew we'd name him Robert if we were ever lucky enough to have him. It wasn't until I was quite pregnant that the desire appeared to name him after my father. I felt the need to somehow keep my father going. I was the only family my dad had left when he died. It seemed so sad that after I was gone, no one would be left to carry all the love he shared with me.
Today, 5 years down the road, I can sometimes see my father when I look at Robby. I see the lanky cowboy frame, the tender loving eyes and God help us all I see that determined look that lets everyone within 5 feet know how serious he is about getting what he wants. Can you see him from where you are dad? I hope so. I want you to see that all the love you gave me didn't go to waste. In the long run, I was paying attention to your heart more than your actions. If it wasn't for you, dad, there wouldn't be a Robert Charles. I miss you still.