I was drafting this post and wondering if it was appropriate to post a story for my Papa. I know he was proud of my writing and proud of what I have accomplished so far in my life. Knowing this, I believe he would have been proud to know I paid him some respect by writing a story for him. He told me so many stories over the years, and I think it is fitting to tell a story about him:
I woke up at Grandma's house this morning, and walked into the kitchen to pour a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Of the seven kinds of cereal and granola my Grandma has in stock, Papa and I both preferred the same kind of granola. As I sat there crunching granola between my teeth, I looked over at the wooden dining table, gazing at the empty chair Papa would always sit in. He would have to carefully maneuver between the dining table and the kitchen counter in order to reach this particular chair. Even when it became considerably more difficult to make the maneuver, Papa never sat in any other dining room chair. Sitting in that wooden chair now seems strange because it always seemed to belong to Papa. After sitting in it for a few minutes, it is plain to see why this was the preferred chair. This chair really has the best vantage point to view any activity in the living room or kitchen. Papa liked to know what people were up to, so it is really a no brainer that he enjoyed sitting here.
Papa also preferred a particular seat on the living room couch too. After relaxing in his spot after breakfast, I once again realized how strategic Papa's seating choices had been. Not only is this seat closest to the TV, but he could rest his feet up on the coffee table and still have room for any plates or cups conveniently waiting on the side table to his right. It seems I never really paid attention to what a good spot it was until it was permanently free for me to enjoy. I've known what a successful salesman my Papa was, and now I can plainly see how his cunning mind enabled him to select the best possible seating choices at Grandma's house.
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