Quiet Lessons… ~ by Cathi Young

Welcome Guest Blogger Cathi Young to “Blogs Always with Love”!

The Quiet Lessons of My Father (a/k/a “My Papa”)
~ by Cathi Young

My father was a man of few words. But, oh God, he taught a lot of silent lessons. Maybe it was in the way he looked, maybe it was in the way he walked, or just maybe it was in the way he quietly smiled. My first quiet lesson came when I was little girl, around two. I cried and cried to go home with one of my big brothers. My Papa took me to his knee, my very first quiet lesson. In this lesson I learned that no is no, it wasn’t about what I wanted.

The next vital silent lesson came when my girlfriends and I took our very first college road trip. We were Carbondale bound to sing at SIU with our choral group. Of course, it was Kappa Carnival weekend (big party time too). My father let me take the car for the whole weekend [this was a miracle]. We pulled up into the parking lot of the Ramada Inn upon arrival, excited, too excited! We began removing our luggage from the trunk. Lo and behold, in my excitement I laid the keys on the trunk floor and closed the trunk. I had to call Papa!

My Papa had to get my brother to drive more than two hours to bring the spare key. When he and my brother drove up to meet me in the parking lot, I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. One thing I knew for sure, Papa was mad. I asked my brother why Papa didn’t speak. My brother assured me that it was best that he didn’t – another quiet lesson from my Papa.

My Papa passed on the 3rd day of September (one month, 9 days before the birth of my first child). The time we spent together while I was home on maternity leave was a divine gift. We spent time talking, sharing, laughing, crying, praying, and playing. The eve before he quietly departed, I received my last lesson from Papa. He told me that Mama wanted him to come and be with her (my mother had passed less than two years before). The last quiet lesson was: “Love lasts an eternity.”

I will always cherish the memory of my Papa.

In memory of Augusta Young, Sr. (“Papa”)
 

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Happy Fathers Day… to all who are blessed to be called dad, daddy, pops, papa… and remembering my father Charles D. Thomas, always with love, never without (gone but never forgotten). 
 
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