A life, celebrated

It's been a week since my Papa passed away. I think about him all the time. He is sorely missed. My Papa was the best. 

He was my father figure. He taught me how to ride a bike. He bought me my first pair of roller blades and would skate around the neighborhood with me. 

Every time he went shopping at Costco he would bring me back a gift, a book, a movie or a game. If I was lucky enough to go with him we would treat me to lunch from the cart- a polish dog with deli mustard and sauerkraut. 

He shared the things he loved with me. Classical music (I adore Vivaldi), doing puzzles (jigsaws and Wonder Word), reading. He delighted in watching the sun set. The ocean held a special place in his heart.

He made the best beef stew. It was made with love. Everything he did was with love.

He had the best sense of humor and was never afraid to be silly. 

He drove me to swim practice. And to my first job. I don’t remember what we talked about specifically, but I could tell him anything.

I miss hearing his voice. I miss seeing him smile.

Gary grew up in Essen, Germany and was the first born son to Emma and Horace. He had a younger brother, Otto. They were raised on a farm and helped in the fields. He was recruited into the German army and became a prisoner of war. After his release he traveled to Canada and then motorcycled into California. He met and married Joanne in Los Angeles in 1965. A daughter, Denise was born in 1966. He owned and operated a Bavarian Delicatessen, was a contractor to the city and could fix all the things. There is much I don’t know about my Papa but what I do know I will keep close. 

I feel like I have so much more to say about him and yet the words aren't flowing.