for our Papa.

William Roberts McKenzie, Sr.

August 10, 1922 – October 31, 2011

 

it is with the heaviest of hearts that i bring myself to sit here and reflect on the greatest man i have ever known.

the greatest man i could ever know.

[well, except for my own father. but he’ll understand if i bump Papa up a notch for this occasion.]

i would wrap this all up nicely in a neat little package (and, subsequently, make it far easier on myself) by simply posting here his obituary. but the thing is, that feels like cheating.

this exchange between two cousins sums it up pretty well, though:

marcy: i feel like our lives just totally changed forever.

ashley: they did.

 

to have known him was to love him. and good God did we ever love him.

when the cornerstone of your entire family is pulled from under you, you almost don’t know what to do. it is more than just a loss of a person very dear to you. more than a loss of his eternal kindness, vast knowledge, and unwavering humor. it’s more than a loss of the comfort in knowing that he was always right there . . . in his chair . . . “not getting a whole lot done” . . . it’s a loss of a piece of yourself.

but that’s okay. i am fine with letting a piece of myself go with him. i wouldn’t even want it back anyway because it is his. and has always been.

to the world, Papa was a man more accomplished than most people could ever dream of being, more successful than most people can ever wrap their head around, more dedicated both to his family and to his community than even seems possible, and simply the single.nicest.person.in.the.entire.great.big.giant.world.

to me, he is the epitome of a southern gentleman. he defines what it means to be a husband and a father and a grandfather. go and google grace and poise and, what do you know, his picture is the first thing you’ll see.

and he whipped up a plate of scrambled eggs and grits that would bring you to your knees.

but it’s time to let him go rest. he deserves a good long eternal rest.

because he spent his whole life taking care of everyone else.

so, to my dearest Papa . . . thank you for setting the bar so so high. thank you for a youth spent running across your farm with the chickens and the fish pond. thank you for 1108 and for giving our family a real home to always go back to. thank you for the scrambled eggs and grits. and thank you for a trillion other things that we could never put into words.

lastly, thank you for hanging in there for one last week at the beach this year. i will cherish every one of those moments for as long as i live. if only i could just sit in that rocking chair next to you for one more day . . .

OH.

and thanks for always being the ultimate cowboy. you make it look so very cool.

i love you.