3 posts tagged “grandpa”
As I listened to the crunch of the shovel on dirt tonight as my step-mom and Dad dug the hole for our family dog's grave I felt like my life at 16 and my life at 26 were colliding into one giant mess in my chest. Everything seemed the same, but everything is completely and totally different. In fact, things couldn't be more different, and I never expected my life at 26 to be so radically far from my life at 16 in all the wrong ways. I stared at the house I grew up in, and it looks so familiar. But its devoid of everything that made it the home I remember. I'm together with my parents as I will always remember it, but now they're separated and everything's the same and everything's not the same.
We lowered Goblin into the ground and stared silently at the dark hole, and thought about what a great puppy he was. He used to jump over the back of the couch light as a feather. He loved when I walked him because I gave him treats after every single walk and not just the ones at the beginning and end of the day. Daddy casually asked Jane how old he was, and we do the math and figure out he was 84 in "people years." The same age Grandpa was when he died last year. And today is in fact, three days from the anniversary of my Grandpa's death. Daddy says he thinks they planned it, a giant scheme to fool us all. It would be so like them.
We start to cover his grave and Daddy turns to Jane and says, "You better show your face around here again in a few weeks. The neighbors will start to wonder, 'Hey, we haven't seen Jane in awhile...and Tom was digging a giant hole in the back yard..' and then the cops will be at my door." We burst into genuine laughter. A few minutes later my Dad notices that the label on the box Goblin is in says "JANE" on it in giant letters. "Does that have your NAME on it? I'm so getting arrested."
It was then that I realized, that its not the things that make my life feel like its falling apart that are making me strong. Its the ties to the people I love who are still here that are making me stronger. Only my family could possibly think that the dog and my grandfather colluded to DIE at the same age at the same time. Only my family could make real jokes out of digging a grave. The past 12 months have been extraordinarily trying for me. My grandfather died, my parents separated, Dave's struggled to find a job, and then - then, Goblin died. I've felt like the walls of my life have been crumbling around me. I've tried very hard to think of the silver lining in all this "he's in a happier place" etc. I have news for you folks. That stuff is just bullshit to make you feel better until you can genuinely come to terms with what you're dealing with. And there's nothing wrong with that. But I always knew it was just the facade that was hiding what I really felt. And what I really felt was anger. I realized tonight that what ties me to the ones I've lost is my sense of humor. The things Daddy said - I swore I heard them in Grandpa's voice. Thats exactly what he would have said. I can only hope that I can learn that from my Dad, so I can share that piece of my Grandpa with my kids. Its not about his "better place" but its about how we come together in his memory and laugh. Loudly.
At Grandpa's funeral, with our eyes full of tears my Dad, Jane and I found ourselves mangled together, enormously long limbs twisted uncomfortably in a strange, wet kind of group hug. Daddy then busts out with "Oh, he'd be laughing now to know he somehow got us all into this group hug." Yes. Indeed he would. And so would Goblin.
There are a lot of reasons why I am very ready for fall. Among them is that I'm ready for summer to be over. This summer has frankly - sucked. At the beginning of the summer, MD's Aunt lost her battle with cancer. In late July a family friend's son-in-law died suddenly in a car accident leaving behind their daughter and four month old grandaughter. And two weeks ago my grandfather passed away. He's been in the hospital since Memorial Day and a few weeks ago it looked like he was going to go home. He took a sudden turn for the worse and they never really found out what was wrong and he died. I've been visiting him every day this summer and we were very close. I am going to miss him a lot. Particularly his sense of humor - he used to say to me every time I left him "Be careful out there - there's a buncha old people on the road."
There are also a lot of good reasons to look forward to fall - it will finally cool down (no more boob sweat!)! We'll know if MD got a job with the Air Force and what the plan is going forward. My best friend is getting married! And I love fall - the trees are pretty, I can drink tea at night and cuddle close.
I have always had a love of literature, so this was a difficult question for me - to pick just one book! So many books have opened my mind to new ways of examining my world, and different views of people, but I would have to say A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving has probably had the biggest impact on my life.
I had the great privledge of taking my required literature course in college from a fantastic professor Dr. Cote, who decided to focus her course on science fiction/fantasy books and chose an amazing list of books I had never read before. I truly fell in love with all but one book we read that semester. Among our assigned reading was A Prayer for Owen Meany. Its a story about a young man searching for meaning in his life and his friend, Owen Meany who somehow, someway just KNOWS his meaning in life. It doesn't sound very prolific but what really impacted me about this novel was the descriptions of the emotions the characters experience, and the unique but believeable circumstances they find themselves in.
In particular John Irvings descriptions of how the main character deals with death really impacted me. He describes how when someone dies you miss them slowly over time like "scent fading from pillows." This is exactly how I respond to death. I am always sad when it happens, however to some outsiders I think I have come across as unemotional. In reality I am grievous at their loss, though over the course of many days - not really all at once. I find myself missing them over the course of many years at Thanksgivings and Graduations and Weddings. I've found many people don't understand my reaction but John Irving captured my emotion perfectly, and I felt a little less alone in this world.
