Remembering Pa-Pa

Frank Pybas, or Pa-Pa, is a man I’ve known for nine or ten years. He’s Angela’s paternal grand dad. In the few years I’ve know him, I’ve come love him and his wife, Martha (or Mam-ma), as if they were my own grandparents. Friday night, after having a meal with his wife at their assisted living center, Pa-Pa collapsed in their apartment. The EMTs and doctors were unable to revive him.

His death comes as a bit of a shock, as I guess they do a lot times, and, of course, a great deal of grief. Every time I saw him he was smiling. He loved the Lord and his family and it showed. He was always offering me one of my favorite drinks, a root beer, and on several occasions I got to share a treat he and I were unique in the family for liking, butterscotch. He was a kind and sweet man, whom we’re all going to miss terribly. He was almost 89, and he and Martha had been married for an amazing 63 years.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Angela took the boys over to visit Mam-ma and Pa-Pa. They loved seeing my boys, and, of course, Andrew and Noah loved to go see them. At Mam-ma and Pa-Pa’s assisted living center, there is a large pond with ducks, so the boys went prepared with bread to feed them, something Pa-Pa loved to do. Angela took lots of pictures, thankfully. One of my favorite pictures is this one with the four of them sitting on a bench by the pond. Pa-Pa looked so pleased and proud.

Below is his obituary from The Oklahoman:

We will miss Pa-Pa, but we take some measure of comfort in knowing that will see him again some day when we, too, finally enter into the rest of our Lord.