He always called me "My girl" when we stopped by--How's my girl? He probably said that to all the nurses. . . the girls. . . but I didn't care. I knew he liked me plenty good, his most recently acquired granddaughter.
I hope he knew that every time I said "Goodbye, Papa, you be good!" that I really meant, "Take care of yourself, because we wanna keep you around."
I miss you, Papa; I miss the visits that I needed to keep learning about you and from you.
Now I suppose I will have to wait until I get to Jerusalem the Golden til I see you. Hope you're keeping it sprayed up there.
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