THE MAN I CALL PAPA

Every child believes that their Grandpa is the best
But this is especially true for me
The man I call Papa, is special indeed
He is the kind of man I want my sons to be

He faces each day so differently than you or me
Not seeing the bad, as I sometimes see
Grateful to see the light of each new day
Accepting the trials that come his way

Never once asking...
"Dear Lord, Why Me"?
The man I call Papa is special, you see
My dear sweet Papa, is a Laryngectomee

The stare of strangers
Not wanting to be crass
What happened to him?
They want to ask

If only they knew
The pain he's gone thru
This thing in his throat
With each new day, it grew

This thing called cancer
Tried to take my Papa from me
This thing called cancer
Took his vocie, you see

It took his ability to smell and taste
As it grew larger, without any haste
This thing called cancer
His spirit, itn could not take, a lesser man, it would surely break

From pencil and paper in hand
To a new way to talk
His eyes told his wife "I love you"
While holding her hand

It took a strong womean
To try to understand
Life as they knew it
Was forever gone

That day in November, when he came home
Fear in his eyes
Cancer is his throat
Was the day when all our hearts broke

Twenty years, now it has been
Sometimes, even hard to understand
But his strength grows on
Proving what makes this man

There are days when we miss his voice
But not half as much
As we'd miss the man
The man I call Papa

We are very blessed
To be able just to hold his hand
With many lessons left to teach
He goes on the best he can, with a smile upon his face

For him, each new day is a gift
But for us, he is the gift
He has taught us to be strong
How to love

We are truely blessed to have...
This man. I call Papa

This is for my Papa, R.N. Ivie Jr.
The most wonderful man I know

All my love,
Kellie Long Adair
(BrownEyedLadynNC@aol.com)
March 18, 2001

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