He’s not even my Papaw, he’s my husbands. But I love him just the same.
When I felt unloved by the family I married into, he took me under his wing.
He sheltered me, showed me kindness, and loved me.
His acceptance became their acceptance.
The last time this barn was bathed red, I helped him.
Just me and him.
This old barn, like this old man.
It’s rusty on the outside, but still provides shelter on the inside.
It’s falling apart, much like he is, but its foundation is strong.
It has faced storm after storm, but still stands, just like Papaw.
I love this man.
This man that taught my man to be a man.