#91 - PPL

Most of you know that I have a very close knit family.  My parents grew up on the same street and even today my parents and my grandparents still live only a few houses apart.  This is why is was especially hard to lose both of my grandfathers in such a short time span.  This post is about my mom's dad, PaPa Lloyd.  He has been missing from our lives for a couple of years now, but is never far from our thoughts.  I know I think about him many times each week and I know many of my faithful readers do too.  That we miss him is a given, but I hope that this post will make you smile and not be sad and I recount the things that endeared him to me.

My grandfather worked for Texaco.  This was not uncommon for men his age who lived in this town.  Not a week goes by that I don't have a patient in that age group who comes into my office who does not know PaPa Lloyd.  They all remember that he was a wonderful cook offshore and I have heard many, many stories about his breakfasts.  I tell them that I know all about that because when I was in high school, PaPa Lloyd would come over several mornings a week to cook us breakfast.  Only as an adult can I truly appreciate this.  I just wish I would have paid more attention to the "how" of cooking and not just the eating...but that is another story for another post. 

Cooking was a gift that PaPa Lloyd had and shared with everyone.  Many people remember him for his jambalayas and many other meals that he cook at the KC hall at St. Francis.  He was very active with the Knights of Columbus and was always volunteering to help in any way he could.  My mom always says that he made the best green salad in the world.  I was not a salad eater back in the day, but she swears that they key to his salads was that he cut up all of his ingredients into fine pieces that made it taste extra fresh.

Another one of his gifts was wood-working.  He spent many hours in his shed stripping pieces of furniture and building and re-building tables, chairs, and armoires.  He built me a desk/vanity that I used in college, my first few apartments, and later for my kids to do homework/art on.  He helped me to finish the unfinished furniture I bought when I thought that I could save some money and make my table and chairs look like something out of Pottery Barn.  He went to the old school board office and found me 15 old antique school chairs, and then cut and pieced them together to make met a set of eight dining room chairs.  He did try to teach me to varnish and stain a couple of times...but I must have too much of my dad in me, because it didn't take. :(

I also remember as a child many trips out to Last Island to stay at the fishing camp.  I remember very cool bunk beds, fishing off the pier, and once even catching MaMa Gladys' jacket with my hook.  I remember him sitting on the end of the pier shucking oysters and eating them raw.  (Another thing I didn't really pick up and love).  My brother Darren got his love of fishing from PaPa Lloyd and I can still remember when he caught his first 32# bull red with PaPa Lloyd.  He must have only been about 7 or 8 at the time.

When I started practicing therapy in my old building, PaPa Lloyd needed several rounds of therapy.  It was then that I got to know him more as an adult and I heard the stories about how he got the scrapnel in his arm and shoulder in WWII, and other injuries that caused lifelong pain in his back and elbow.  He never complained, as I find so many men of his era don't.  No whining about being drafted.  No crying because of the injuries they sustained and the sacrifices that they made for their country.  He was a proud Veteran and at his funeral, he received a very touching memorial from the United Veterans league.  Once he started to feel the slight effects of Parkinson's disease, he use to show up at my office every few days at 1:00 PM.  He would drink a cup of coffee, visit with the other patients who he either knew or made friends with, and then get on the treadmill to walk awhile or on the mat to do some leg exercises.  He would stay for about an hour and then head out either to home or to the KC hall.

He loved my kids and would always ask them what kind of ball they were playing.  Even towards the end of his life when he really did not talk too much, every now and then he would ask one of them how baseball was going.  He was a coach for many years when he was younger and I have many patients who tell stories of these times.

It is really hard to put down in words why you love someone.  My PaPa Lloyd was not a big talker, but I know he loved me.  I miss him a lot and I know the rest of the family does too.  I know that he is in heaven, cooking up a storm, visiting with old friends and making new ones.