My only sunshine.

You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy,
When skies are grey.
You'll never know dear,
How much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away.

Pawpaw used to sing that to me as a little girl. We'd sit in the swing on the back porch of his old house...for hours...and just sing. There are so many things that Pawpaw taught me, growing up. He was a wise man. There are many other words that immediately come to mind when I think of him. Kind. Compassionate. Honest, sometimes brutally so. But probably the thing that sticks out most among all the memories, is how much he loved his family. We were always everything to him. He loved my Mawmaw like I had never seen a person love another. They raised 9 children together, so you know there had to be something incredible between them. She died 12 years ago. He still missed her everyday. Every once in a while, he'd even wake up looking for her. They were married for 56 years when she died. For the past few months, he had been telling my mom that he was ready to go. "I want to go see your Mama", he'd say to my mom. And she'd say, "Not yet, Daddy. It's not time".
Well, as life would have it, time was fast approaching.

Let me back up. Pawpaw had lived with my mom for the last three years. She is the youngest of all the kids, and she made her life about taking care of him. He would have been 93 next month, and was sharp as a tack. Physically, he had been struggling for a while, but thankfully when it got bad, things moved quickly. Hell, last month he made my step dad take him fishing. I say made, because when Pawpaw wants something, he does not let up. Be it fishing, or ice cream. He will be on your ass about it 'til he's satisfied.

Pawpaw saw a lot in his day. Used to tell me about his childhood, meeting Mawmaw, going to the Navy. He had a never ending bag of stories. Some sad, some funny, and some so inappropriate that only Pawpaw could get away with. I'm going to miss that. Even if it was a story I'd heard enough times to recite, I'd curl up next to him and listen with wide eyes. He was an incredible man.

It's funny, how life plays out. He had some excess fluid around his hands and feet. Mom was out of town, so he was with my Aunt, which is rarely the case. She took him to the hospital on Thursday, June 18th. His kidneys were operating at 15%. They talked about dialysis, but he was already pretty frail, and even that would only buy him a couple of months. He looked so tired in that hospital bed. He was rowdy though. Letting everyone withing earshot know just how he felt about the whole thing. I heard "This is bullshit" several times. We don't have much trouble expressing ourselves in our family. Pawpaw was no different. I held his hand, he looked over at me, and talked to me in between naps. The verdict was, that Pawpaw was ready to move on.
On to whatever lies beyond our world here. He died in his sleep at hospice on Monday, June 22nd.
Pawpaw lived a long, sometimes difficult, but ultimately happy and extremely grateful life. He leaves behind more than he probably ever thought he would. I can only hope to be like him, live like he lived, love how he loved.
I imagine, my children will curl up to me and listen to stories of their Great Grandpa Joe, with eyes wide as can be.
I love you, Pawpaw. Forever.