It has been three months now since my grandpa died. I still can’t believe it. His birthday was on Monday and we didn’t celebrate like we used to. The whole family used to all go out for dinner and we would have a little party for him. I missed his big party last year. He turned 80 and my mom threw him a surprise party with people that he hasn’t seen in forever. I couldn’t go; I was on a plane to London at the time. I always thought there would be next year. He never made it to that.
He died July 5, 2007. The day before, we were having a barbeque to celebrate the fourth of July with the whole family. He didn’t seem too well and he said his diabetes had been acting up, but he said he was good. I had my friends over the barbeque and spent more time with them, then my actual grandparents. When they decided that they were leaving, I rushed through saying goodbye, giving them a quick kiss, hug and goodbye and then ran back to my friends.
The next morning I woke up to my iPod playing ‘Dead!’ I was complaining about having to find clothes so that I could go to summer school. I didn’t want to do anything because it was too hot out and I wanted to stay in the air conditioning. Then I head my mother screaming from the living room. I opened my door and saw my mom crying hysterically and clinging to my father. I knew something had happened to one of my grandparents, but I was still unsure of which one.
I later found out it was my grandfather because my dad was calling people on the phone telling people. They both went to my grandmother’s house to consol her, but my brother and I stayed home. I needed to talk to my friends, but they were all at school by this time. I emailed my friend Iriss, freaking out and unsure of what to do.
I then went to my brother’s room, who was balling to himself, under his blankets. I laid and cried with him for a while, but it felt too weird, so I went to my own room. Once summer school was over, Iriss called me. She wanted to know what I was wrong, but I couldn’t even talk about it. She had her mom drive her over and she spent the whole rest of the day with me. She isn’t very good at consoling people, but she was good at distracting me from it all, which helped.
Over the weekend, was the funeral and the wake. I couldn’t go up to the casket, so I waited till my friend Bethany got there, so she could go with me. I broke down because this was the first time I have seen him and it didn’t even look like the man that I had grown up with. Iriss showed up later and was there for the last time I said goodbye to him. It was the worst thing I have ever had to do.
I still feel bad about everything. I feel bad about not taking the time out to appreciate him as I got older. Not saying goodbye and rushing away to my own life. Then I feel bad for dragging my friends through this whole thing too. Death is such a difficult subject and I kind of made them deal with it. They said that it is no problem, but still, I feel bad.
There isn’t one day that I don’t think about him. My grandma now feels that she doesn’t have a purpose anymore. He actually happened to pass away two days away from their 50th wedding anniversary.
I just miss him. I miss hearing his lame jokes that he would say. How he would like to irritate my grandmother, but completely out of love. I miss talking to him, and hearing all his stories from when he was younger. I was looking at old pictures of them and I realized that there was this side that I never knew and now probably won't.
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