I’m not a very emotional person. As a matter of fact, I have a hard time opening myself up to people. I don’t get loud and theatrical, and I absolutely hate crying…yet I can’t stop the tears from streaming onto my keyboard. I stopped myself about 15 times from writing this, because of how open and vulnerable it leaves me. But if I don't get this out right now, I won't ever tell anyone.
Today marks the 2nd year of the passing of my Grandfather, who in many ways was the stitching and the glue that held our family together. Two years later, things aren’t the same without him around.
His passing hits me especially hard. My sister and I stuck close to our grandparents as many kids do, growing up. We were there at their house on Hobart Blvd. religiously for every weekend, holiday, and sometimes during the school week just because. We learned so many things from them – from sign language and how to cook, to how to bowl or love someone unconditionally. I come from a family that really hasn’t suffered any major blows or tragedies (even through Katrina), so I was nowhere near prepared to handle the passing of one of my closest, most loved family members.
His passing is especially hard for me, given where I was and what I was doing on the days leading up to September 9th, 2006. I recall my grandfather being hospitalized in the intensive care unit of Kaiser Hospital on Sunset. I visited him twice with my family while he was there, which I agonize over frequently. I could have gone more. While I was on campus running around, doing stuff that really doesn't mean shit now, other family members had re-arranged their schedules to be with him around the clock. But what I beat myself up about the most is the exact weekend it happened – I was packing to go on a staff retreat in Big Bear. I didn’t even make time to visit him before I left. He passed on the first night of the retreat, around 1am. To this day, I absolutely regret having such fucked up priorities that I didn’t afford myself the opportunity to spend more time with such an important person. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. I don’t walk around harboring a bunch of ‘coulda, woulda, shouldas’, and I rarely regret anything I say or do. But this one thing, I can’t let go. I took for granted the people that I love the most.
My Grandpa was so proud of his granddaughters - one college graduate about to get married and begin her own family, and the other right on her heels. I wanted him at my graduation, to see the manifestation of all his love and support. I miss him so much, and so does my family. Please, if you do nothing else today, call your family members and tell them you love them. Spend some time with close friends and people that mean the world to you. Because I didn’t – and two years later, I still haven’t forgiven myself.
-- Crown Royal On Ice --
1 comment:
Don't beat yourself up about having not been there the night Grandpa passed. He knew then, and knows now that you love him very much. He has always been proud of you, and always will be. He is up in Heaven, watching us, and smiling down on us. He might even be up there making the 'devil' horns like he used to when we did something bad! lol
Every September since his passing, I have a hard time knowing this day is approaching. It hit me this Sunday after Communion at church. They were playing a song that was played at his funeral, and as many times as I've heard the song before he passed, I will always associate that song with his funeral. I tried not to cry, but fighting tears in church seems so inappropriate, especially since God knows our hearts.
Grandpa will always be missed, but know he is watching us and will always be with us, everywhere we go.
Love,
Me
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