26 years ago (April 21, 1986 to be EXACT), a little chubby baby was born in Houston, TX.
That fat pale baby would be me.
The man who loved me unconditionally and raised me- that would be Bobo. Even after constantly pulling his poor chest hair that would peek out of that very same burgundy robe. I don't know why but I was fascinated with ripping his grey chest hair and staring at it. Bratty weird kid. I know. But he always let me do it.
You see, Bobo and I didn't have a grandpa/granddaughter relationship- no, it was more than that... we were best friends. He spoiled me rotten. Whenever we moved, he moved into the apartment next door. He did this all throughout my childhood in Houston.
I remember living at his house more than my own. He always had the sugary cereal at his house. He always bought me the sweet chocolate milk by the gallon and pour it in a Better Business Bureau ceramic coffee mug. I felt so mature and grown up pretending I cared reading the TIMES magazine on his coffee table. I would BEG him to smoke his pipe because of the cherry tobacco smell I loved lingering in the air.
I was never embarrassed of him, always proud to have a friend like him. He took me to plays, symphonies, the mall, etc. He always made me laugh and I guess being the clown I was as a kid made him laugh too. I loved hanging out with him. I'll never forget the way his Buick smelled and how much I loved going to Computer stores with him to help fix things. (He's a tech guy... he used to fix computers and software etc- he had a laptop before any of us, same with e-mail, digital cameras, cell phones, and even facebook...!)
Bobo was my number one fan. Y'all know I'm not an only child... but he sure made me feel like one. My sister and I were kids when our parents divorced (She was 3 years old, I was 8 months)- so I feel like Bobo overcompensated when it came to me. My sis was old enough to go visit alone and even moved to California with my dad when she was a little older in 3rd grade. It was like he never wanted me to feel like I was missing out on anything.
Bobo had three grandkids- my sister, myself, and my cousin. Here's a family pic of my aunt, uncle, cousin, sister, and grandma... mmhm.
Bobo still hung out with me even though I had awful hair cuts. Such a gentleman. This is the "You're my bestttt friend" stage. I used to race him outside (yes, he would always beat me...) play checkers with him, watch movies, and go shopping at JCPenney where he even let me buy my first electric guitar from the catalog. That was short lived.
Just gonna put this out there- my sister and I weren't always best friends... haha we went through the horrid fighting days- where we couldn't be with one parent at the same time- HA!!!
I remember our fights would end with my arms CLAWED up and my skin under her fingernails... or her hiding behind a wall with a spray bottle of Clorox waiting for me to come around- (and now she's the sweet mom of 3- karmaaaaaaa jk)
The worst: she was always skinnier than me but dang if she wasn't stronger!! She would pin me down and sit on me and pretend to spit into my face as I lay helpless with my arms pinned down- only 9 times out of 10 her spit would really come down haha. Anyway, I'd always run out of my house to Bobo's next door and he would make everything better. I dunno, new pair of Nike's or some more chocolate milk. {side note: Sister plays nice(r) now- and we're all one big happy family- but those days make me laugh!!!}
On to the background story about Bobo... For all my instagram followers { @sheilap } who have followed his past visit... and are wondering why he doesn't live here... and have been so sweet with all the bobo love:
We were officially Atlanta residents my sophomore year of high school. Bobo flew out to visit all the time. I have pics of this too but I am ashamed of my A&F attire and birkenstocks. More so than the buzz cut...
I did NOT forget about him. He was my either my Spring Break or Summer vacation destination. He still flew out to visit but not to live... He said he was too tired at the time. I think he was scared he'd uproot himself again just to have to do it all over. Bobo and I spoke on the phone at LEAST every other day. He knew all my important test days and would make sure to call after to see how I did. He was my pen pal and we would send birthday cards for each other and other goodies. We love snail mail. I still love surprising him with his favorite coffee. He likes to surprise me with electronic stuff. I don't mind.
Why doesn't he live here now?
Bobo lives in quite possibly the nicest state for the elderly. His benefits are ridiculously good. He lives in a revamped hotel with other elderly people and he takes the bus or walks everywhere. He's used to the cold Colorado temperature and he likes his neighbors. Moving to him is harder than just renting a U-haul and picking a place to relocate. He has to find a place, find the right plan to be able to get the benefits he gets, and find the energy to pack and move.
Bobo is diabetic. He has some steady health issues that would cost him an arm and a leg here in Georgia. If it were just a matter of moving state to state, he would have been here years ago. When Ordy and I first started dreaming about our future, I said, "I want a room in our house for Bobo. I want him to live with us." When he said he was ok with that, I knew he was the man I was supposed to marry. {What other groom would let Bobo stay 3 weeks with us 1 week after our honeymoon??}
Now that I'm older and realizing the importance of family, I know that this long distance relationship has to stop. I won't let Bobo spend another Christmas alone. His visits have revolved around doctor's visits and prescription pick ups. He put his life and medicine on hold for 40 days so he could come to my wedding and stay long enough for my birthday. That's why he has to go back.
But today, before I took him to the airport- I told him I can't live like this anymore. I am way too used to having him next door and I need him back in my life- not just a phone call away, but a walk across the street. I promised him I would look into any available resource to help make the move to Atlanta easier. I would sell all my belongings if it meant having him back- having him here with our families for the holidays.
We cried. Shared some public tears. Left lunch and went to the airport. I promised him I would do whatever I could and plan on studying all summer, taking the bar in July, and showing up on his door step with Ordy, some moving boxes, and a U-Haul to move him to Georgia. He cried and said he would give anything for that day. Anything. Well, I'm done wishing, hoping, and dreaming. After spending 3 weeks with him and remembering the bond we share, the house will be so empty without him. I know I couldn't live long without his presence again. I hope and pray that we get Bobo here by September. Settled by the holidays. I would give anything to have my sweet sweet bobo in GA.
So that's the background. Sorry to make a story out of it... but now you know. Pray that we can work out some benefits for him to move here, it would be a dream come true. I love him so much it hurts my heart!!!
Bobo:
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| loves dogs |
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| loves animals |
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| loves facebook |
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| loves antique shopping |
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| loves cat naps |
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| loves teaching people about golf |
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| loves the lotto |
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| loves cooking |
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| loves outdoor patios |
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| loves people and talking to them |
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| loves just living |
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| loves learning how to play baseball |
and the last picture I'll leave is one of Bobo at the antique auction, and the mini ottoman version of a melted Bobo that we even tried bidding on! HA!
I will keep you sweet readers and insta followers posted on Operation Bobo Home For Christmas progress- thank you for letting me flood your inbox with my bobo overdose- it means a lot to me!
