. . . the nickname for my maternal grandfather, Vanessa's great grandfather. It's also probably what Vanessa would've called my dad. Today marks the fifth anniversary of his death.
It's interesting to hear and read about stereotypes and origins for different grandparent nicknames. When you look up "papaw" it is defined as a type of fruit tree or the fruit of that tree. Neat . . . since Vanessa is the fruit of her Papaw. Vanessa makes the sound for
p really well. I can only imagine if Dad were still around, Vanessa would be saying
Papaw lots and lots by now. I often wish he were with us to enjoy her endless energy. I know he would've loved her.
One might say that I had a rough childhood, but even so, my father always used (intentionally or unintentionally) humor and affection to soften the world we lived. As children we were so blind to most happenings . . . probably a good thing . . . but now when I reflect as a parent, our Dad did amazingly well overcoming many obstacles. I was a daddy's girl, but not in the typical generalized way -- only I could do no wrong and I was his princess (even when I was full-fledged tomboy.) He was gifted in so many ways but never fully realized . . .
Of course he's on my mind frequently, but with the anniversary of his death, my thoughts are a little more consumed. Love you Dad! Vanessa will experience the sunshine you brought to us all.
