Every Memorial Day weekend, I make it a point to take the kids over to the little cemetery in Midlothain, Texas, so we can place a few small flags on my Papa Jack’s grave.
Problem is our family lineage has a bunch of Jack’s. George Jack, Charles Jack, Brady Jack, Jack Wroten Sr and Jr. Jack, Jack, Jack. All jacked up.
They get confused each year so I have to explain the same story time after time. My papa Jack died before they were born in 2004. He was their great Papa Jack. Their Papa Jack (Julie’s dad, is still alive). Their other great Papa Jack died before there were born too (that’s Julie’s grandfather). Poor kids. Jacks running all over the place in their family history.
Regardless, I miss my papa. I really don’t think a week goes by he doesn’t come across my mind. I wonder alot at what he would think of his three great grand kids. His Asian grandson. What he would think of me and how I’ve done. I’m grateful beyond words that God kept him with us long enough to see me finally get married and get to know my amazing bride. He was probably wondering back in 2003 just what in the heck was wrong with me…
Papa served our country too which makes this weekend a perfect time to remember and reflect on his life and the lives of so many others.
Papa was the cornerstone of our family for decades married to my amazing Grandma Kat. He provided me with amazing childhood memories on his Ennis farm, taught me how to fish, garden, drive and even mow the fields. Underneath all of that was Grandma keeping everything in check, as she still does to this day.
I know Grandma can’t wait to see him again on the other side as does my dad and the rest of us. Between now and then, we will continue to honor how he served his family and his country with our own little Memorial Day Weekend tradition.
Love you papa.