My Papa

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   Some of my first memories as a small child were times spent with my Grandfather whom I called “Papa.”   My uncles and aunts all called him “Papa,” so I did too.  I was the eldest of the new generation and my youngest uncle was only 6 years older than I. I remember Papa giving me a bath and chiding me for not sitting still so he could “soap” me.  I remember walking to school with him, he was the custodian of my elementary school, besides owning a pear orchard.  We would milk the cow before we went and I would sit on the box with him while he milked.   I remember him telling me to open up my mouth and then he would squirt warm milk from the cow directly into my mouth.  What a way to grow up!