It’s a funny thing, y’all. One moment, you think you’re fine…the next, you’re crying in a bowling alley parking lot because you found out 12 hours before that your world/your sphere/your people (and, even more, the world of your parent/aunt/uncle) has totally changed and you can’t “push through” anymore. Who knows where it will hit. Or if you’ll be able to pause the floodgates once it does. For me, it certainly came in waves. And I’m sure it will continue that way.
Roy Walter Crews, Junior. My daddy’s dad. Papa. There are so many things I could say, but I wouldn’t know how or where to start. So I’ll let these pictures do the talking. The smiling face below is how I’ll remember him — and how thankful I am that I have these pictures and that he was able to be present for one of the most important days of my life (among the many others growing up).
This picture (above) was on his refrigerator when I walked into the house Sunday night. Cue the tears.
He leaves behind quite a special family, if I do say so myself. We couldn’t be more blessed for the time we had, the life he lived, and the family he built — and to know he’s back with Mimi. None of that makes it any easier, but it does provide a slight bit of peace. I’ve had some tough moments in my life. But, few (if any) tougher than leaving my family this past Tuesday — each handling it differently, in our own way, but leaning on each other as we pulled out of the driveway knowing that someone was always just a phone call away for support.
For anyone currently going through some sort of grieving process, anyone who has been through it before, and those who will in the future…my prayers are with you. Know that you can always find support here. Thank you to those who have been that support for me and my family — and those still in Oxford, squeeze my people tight when you see ’em. Y’all mean so much to us. Your love won’t soon be forgotten.