My Papa, James N. Blackburn

James Norville Blackburn

November 2, 1914 -- February 5, 2009

My Dad called me here yesterday evening as I was changing the linens on Sophie's bed. The moment I heard his voice, I just knew what he was going to say: my grandfather, Papa, died yesterday morning of heart failure. He had been doing poorly, suffering from confusion and disorientation and had limited mobility for a few years, but I still wasn't expecting that call. I really thought he might go on forever. He was 94 years old.

He was a big man in every sense of the word. You always knew where he stood, and he didn't try to hide it if he was unhappy. Being his only granddaughter, however, I got to see a side of him that most others did not. I spent a great deal of time with him when I was growing up, and can honestly say that I always felt adored by him. I don't think he ever raised his voice at me, and that is really saying something, not only because he could be a big-voiced person, but because I also probably deserved a good scolding every now and again.

He loved golf. He loved keeping an absolutely pristine lawn and garden. He loved his dogs. And he, without a doubt, loved me. This is not to say he didn't love the rest of his family. He surely did, but I always felt special, like he would have done anything for me. What a gift to give a little girl.

So, Papa, thank you for playing checkers and coloring with me, for reading me the funny papers, and for shaving any time I thought your whiskers were too scratchy. Thank you for taking me out on the riding mower with you and letting me drive. Thank you for letting me name the dog "Lady." Thank you for taking me to school early in the morning any time I called you. Most of all thank you for loving me unconditionally...some might even call it spoiling me rotten. Thank you for giving me the best of you.

The photograph at the top of the page was taken the last time I saw Papa, in August of 2008. He kept telling me that he had a granddaughter named Meredith. I think in his mind I was an eternal little girl, so the woman sitting beside him couldn't possibly have been his Meredith. He did, however, have a ball with my two little girls, and six year old Emma, seemed to have an especially fine time with him. She read him books, cuddled up on his lap and didn't mind in the least having to shout in his ear so that he could hear her. :) Looking back at the pictures from that visit with him makes me happy. I am glad my girls got to spend an afternoon enjoying my Papa.