I remember counting down the days until my family and I would cram into a car and drive a hellofalongway through Nebraska, which is the longest state to drive through, in the history of longest states, then Iowa. We loved Iowa. Iowa was such a short state and it meant that we were almost there. We were so excited to see you. We always wanted to be at your house because you were the nice grandparents. You never lost your temper and you showered love and affection on us. You were always happy to see us. You were never grouchy or mean. When we had to leave you, we would cry and cry and cry half way through Iowa. You cried too.
You were such a huge part of our lives. And then Grandma died and I don’t know what happened. It was like you died too-a ghost of yourself. It was never the same again and you didn’t keep in touch- our letters were always unanswered. I’m sorry you had to suffer so long without her. And I’m sorry I don’t get to take you to Michigan in August to meet your great granddaughter. I can’t believe you’re gone.
I love you, Grandpa and I’m going to miss you tremendously. You were the best grandpa a person could hope for and I hope you’re in bliss right now.
Love,
Me
6 Comments
December 28, 2008 at 10:02 am
I hope you’re ok. Even when they are old and have had a full life, good grandpas still leave a giant empty space when they are gone. I’m so glad you got to see him and spend time with him already.
December 28, 2008 at 11:02 am
I’m ok. I cry, then stop and go about my business, then remember he’s gone and cry some more. Sad . . . but not devastated- if that makes sense. It is very hard to not be with my family- to have them pilgrimage to Streator while I’m here alone, with no one who knew him or loved him nearby.
I want the world to be sad that someone’s grandpa/father/husband/uncle/friend/son passed on. I’m sad about the way he lived his life at the end- that he slipped away quietly- not in his manner of death, but he lived quietly and slipped away long before it was time. And I wonder if this is what’s in store for me-to be the last standing with relations in distant lands and my only comrades in a nursing home where life is sucked out of the living and fed to the dead.
And nothing is guaranteed. He had a wife and children who loved him dearly, and in the end he was tucked away in the nursing home.
So, I’m taking pause and mourning his passing- and then I’m rushing to a faraway land to express the passion and fervor within my soul which is found when I’m traveling and most at home. I’m myself. I’m alive. I want to burn brightly and live in vivid colors. While I can’t be this way 24/7, I want to more often than not.
While I’m confident I made the right decision, it’s still hard. But, I know it will be better in a few days.
December 29, 2008 at 12:10 am
Much, much love to you. So sorry to hear about your grandpa. And so glad you had someone so wonderful as to make you cry half way across Iowa.
December 29, 2008 at 10:44 am
No matter what you believe, he’s at rest, and he knew/knows you love him.
This sucks so hard.
December 29, 2008 at 7:59 pm
Thank you guys for your comments. It’s nice to look in and see them pop up in my email- lifts my spirits a bit.
I don’t really have much to say at the moment. I’m just spent.
However, I’m taking Wednesday bereavement, and can sleep in a little tomorrow, since I haven’t had much of it- so by the time I head to South Africa, I should be totally pumped! (not that I’m not pumped now, just too much shit to do!)
Well, I guess that was a lot to say. heh.
January 6, 2009 at 1:49 pm
i’m sorry for your loss mountain lover. I’m just really really glad you just went to see him.