Saying Goodbye

My worst nightmare has begun.

I am 28 years old and until this week I had not lost someone close/extremely important to me. In that I am extremely lucky.

Most that know me well know of my strange family dynamics. I won’t get into everything on a public blog…..but dysfunctional fits the bill pretty well. I lived with my grandparents until I was 4 years old, but they continued to have a large hand in my raising until now. I have never seen them as a grandmother/grandfather, they were much closer to a mom/dad to me. My first memories involved them….my best memories involved them. We talk on the phone several times a week and they are the first to know of anything good/bad that happens in my life. They are my rock.

My biggest fear since I first learned of death was losing them. I knew it would be the day my world ended.

As of Friday that fear was realized. My grandfather who was the strongest most amazing man in my life passed away. He was diagnosed with stage IV throat cancer that had spread throughout his body. We knew it was terminal, we knew it would be soon….I was still not ready. I got the call last week as we were leaving for CA for a fun family vacation to see old friends that his health had begun to spiral down quickly. After getting all the facts I believe that what finally killed him was a subdural brain bleed caused from a fall he had a few days prior. At first I tried to convince everyone that he needed to go to the emergency room…but I knew deep down inside that it was probably too late to do anything. My grandmother finally stated that she didn’t want him in the hospital….it was time. Unknown to most of us he apparently had been in significant pain for the past few months and she wanted the pain to end. This knowlege took the fight out of me…I don’t want to extend a life if it is in pain. Part of me was in denial that the end would come. Someone as strong as my grandfather couldn’t die. Somehow he would pull through. I made the decision to stay in CA and not fly home at the end because I didn’t want my last memory of him to be of his passing. I had seen him just a few short weeks ago and my last day was amazing. He seemed stronger, healthier, happier…..he sat in his chair and let Harper play with his hands (I always loved his hands)….he watched her play on the floor and “talk” like crazy…..he ate an entire Whataburger that Dan brought him….he walked me to the door, gave me a hug, and told me to “take care of that precious baby”. I wish I would have hugged him harder, said “I love you” one more time, made sure he knew how much he meant to me.

When I got the official call that he had passed…it was a knife straight to my heart. He took a piece with him. I am so thankful that I was with friends who were able to take my mind off of everything for a short little while. We were unable to get home until Sunday so we spent the few days in CA we had attempting to enjoy it. I know my grandfather would have wanted that.

I have so many memories. They run like a constant stream through my head…I am am so scared to forget one. I am scared to forget what his voice sounded like, how his hug felt. I have never felt real grief. I am not 100% sure how to handle it. He taught me my colors by using M&Ms (I fully blame him for my incredible sweet tooth!), he taught me my love of reading (would buy me 4-5 books at a time because “I couldn’t choose just one!), he was always bringing home random things he thought we would enjoy (diamond earrings when I was 3mo old, a 5 lb bucket of purple skittles (yes you read that correctly…5 lbs…purple), he would lay in bed at night when I was younger and listen to me recount my entire day of preschool…even though he had to get up before the sun. I still remember him sitting at my high school convocation and tearing up when he saw me walk up in my cap & gown. Every thing I’ve done…all that I have accomplished was to see him proud of me. I never wanted to disappoint him…..I hope I didn’t. I wish I would have listened to more of his stories…asked a few more questions. I always knew he was a Shriner (although I thought that that meant he met up with other old men and wore monkey hats when I was a kid! haha!), but didn’t realize he was a 32nd degree Mason until after his death. There is so much I didn’t know.

Tomorrow is the funeral. I don’t know how to say goodbye. My grandmother was the love of his life and his wife of 62 years. I can’t imagine what she is going through. My biggest fear now is losing her to a broken heart. How does life go on after this?