A Year Ago Today Pt. 3

October 16, 2012. It feels like yesterday. The last year has flown by.

This day, one year ago, my family experienced another heartbreaking loss, but also found an extreme sense of relief. Before you think "how awful", hear me out.

My papaw was an interesting guy. In all my life, I count very few moments where I remember him contribute more than one or 2 sentences at a time to any conversation. He was very shy and was much more comfortable with simply watching the show my family puts on at every gathering and chuckling to himself. I do remember him laughing. A lot. He always laughed. Maybe at us, maybe with us, but regardless, he loved our family and he was happy with us.

I can only imagine that his shyness was intensified when his dementia set in. At first he recognized us as his grandchildren, but just wasnt sure which one each of us was. Mom told me that he had her label the family pictures on his wall at his house so that he could look at them and know our names, even though he knew he wouldnt remember them on his own. With 15 grandkids, all of the girls blonde, who could blame him? Regardless of the dementia, he loved us.

As the dementia got worse, he only knew us as grandkids in certain settings. If we were at church with our parents or at any family function, the process was always the same. "Hey Papaw, how are you?" "Hello, are you Vickie's daughter?". It makes me smile to remember exactly how he would respond every single time. He would show up on the wrong day for things, show up hours earlier than necessary, and always just sat and watched the show of the crazy Allen family.

A few weeks before he passed away, my papaw had a stroke. From the way my mom described it, a stroke is a disease and one of the side effects is that it intensifies the diseases already active in your body. After his stroke took full effect, my papaw sat in his hospital bed and had no idea who we were. At any given moment, tears would roll down his cheeks when he would look at these young blonde girls in his hospital room. He had no idea who we were anymore. He couldnt talk so we would hold his hand and ask him questions and he would shake his head in response. Thats the last moments I remember with him, looking worn down by the world and by the weight of the disease in his body, confused and saddened. When he left his earthly body, we were sad to see him go, but anyone who knew my papaw would know how much his healing came that minute he took his last breath.

My papaw loved Jesus. He was a brilliant man who wanted to tell everyone what he had learned. My papaw left this world and joined my grandad in God's presence, basking in God's glory.


My Uncle Larry said it best when he gave the eulogy. My papaw's personality hindered him in many ways here on earth. He didnt come to games or concerts, wasnt good with names or remembering, and his introverted self kept him from being social. But when my papaw left this world, he gained a new set of skills. He sees every game and concert, he remembers our names, our birthdays, and he is living it up in Heaven.


I've said it before and I'll say it again... My family loves hard and we hurt hard. We hurt when we lost him, and today it still hurts to know he is gone. But Billy Allen loved hard just like the rest of us. He showed it in a strange way, and sometimes I even failed to realize how much he loved us, but it doesn't take more than a glance into his home to see that his family was his world. If there's one thing I will take from his life, it is the reminder to love in every way that I am capable, even if others dont understand.