Why I Wear Red

February is Heart Month. And on the first Friday of February, you are supposed to wear red in support of the American Heart Association. I am not a fan of the color red. It has nothing to do with a college affiliation (NC State), I just don't like red, it doesn't look good on me.

But today, Friday February 6, I wear red just like I do every year.

For my Papa.

Growing up, my Papa was everything to me, and I was his "little bit". In the words of my father "If he told you he could drive backwards with his eyes closed you would believe him"...duh, he's my Papa. Every word you could use to describe a grandfather, that is what my Papa was to me. He was my bus driver (I lived too close to school to ride the actual bus) and every morning we'd go get my grandmama a sausage biscuit and then ride by the high school to check and make sure my cousin was there before dropping me off at the elementary school. He was the "fun" one...I didn't even want to wear a bra because the only person who wore a bra in Disney World was Grandma, and she had NO fun (true story).

I had 13 wonderful years with this man, then in the Fall of 1997, my world was rocked to its core. On a normal Tuesday, I came out of school just like I always do, looking for "Annie" (the name for Papas truck), instead I saw my dad's mom, my Nana.

She said that Papa had had a mild heart attack, that he was taken to the hospital, and we were going to see him. When we got there, he was sitting up, joking and laughing just like he always did. We found out the next day that they were going to send him to Duke for a heart catherization on Thursday morning, to see just how much damage was done. He would stay for a few days, then come home. No.big.deal.

Then, on Thursday, August 28, I was in school and was called to the office. My Nana and Grandaddy were both there, they said we were going to Durham to see my Papa.  They made it sound like just a routine visit, but I knew it wasn't. They were getting me out of school. I was going to miss band. I just didn't get it...

When I got there, my mom was in the waiting room. She had told me that Papa had a massive heart attack on the table and was not doing well at all. She said that I could see him, but that he was hooked to wires and that I should try not to upset him, because it would make his heart work harder. I still remember what he looked like on that hospital bed, and it was not my Papa. This was the worst day of my life so far...he wasn't supposed to make it through the night. But he did. Then he wasn't supposed to make it through the week. But he did.

The last time I saw him was Sunday afternoon, September 21. I had told him all about my very first marching band competition and I saw his eyes light up as I talked to him. Getting ready to leave that night, I went in for one last visit. I said goodbye and that I'd be back next weekend. And then, just as I always did, I said "I love you". Papa had a trach in and couldn't talk, but as I walked out the door, I saw him hold up one finger, then four, then three, 1-4-3, "I love you".

Papa died on Wednesday, September 24, 1997. It has been almost 18 years and I still miss him just as much as I did on that day. He has missed so much, four high school graduations, three college graduations, two more grandchildren, two weddings, and one great-grandchild. But in my heart I know, he hasn't missed a thing. He actually has had the best view.

This is why I wear red. To honor the greatest man I ever knew, and in hopes that through awareness, one day heart disease is just a thing of the past and Papas will be able to live forever <3

Carlton Fanney - June 28, 1928 - September 24, 1997