So I suppose it should be about time that I made a tiny update, since the last real update was prior to the passing of my Grandma....Well anyway...It's been almost a full year since my Grandparent's both died, two of the most important people in my life.
On January 31st, 2009 my Grandma died of small cell carsisomethingsomething, smoking being a cause, as well as quite a few other things that just weren't happy for her. She was an amazing woman, more like a mother to me then a grandma...a best friend really, taught me to be strong and to find that strength in hope, happiness and optimism. To trust others, but not foolishly, they have to earn it, and once they earn it they have to work to keep it. And love, for friends, family, lovers, is everlasting in it's own way. When she died I resolved that I was going to make her proud, by doing what I could to be just like her, beautiful and amazing, on the inside and the outside.
Now, six months after grandma left us, grandpa also died unexpectantly. He died peacfully in his sleep, lounging on his bed, hands behind his head, and a smile on his face. He had just gotten home from spending a week at my aunt's (his daughter's) and just getting out of the house.
Here's the thing, my grandparents were true soul mates. No joke. Before when Grandpa was really sick in the hospital and things were looking good for him (a year or so before grandma died) Grandma said she'd never forgive him if he left her first, she wouldn't know what to do with out him. They were married 50 some odd years or so.
After Grandma was gone, Grandpa was physically well, his many a fight with cancer was starting to truly take off, as in pretty much come to an end, and things were looking up. But the loss of the love of his life took an obvious toll on him emotionally. He was a man that always, annoyingly, had to be doing something. He couldn't just sit still for two seconds. Growing up, I remember he'd putts around in the garage doing god knows what, come inside and putts around doing...again god knows what. But after grandma he sat in front of the boob tube all day, never really had too much energy to just get up and do something. His favorite thing to do was to go to WinCo and grocery shop, because he got to get out of the house. I would spend time with him when I could, and my Dad, his girlfriend Tammy (the pseudo step-mom) and the rest of the family would also do what they could to spend time with him, even though it helped him some, we weren't Grandma.
And I think that's the real reason he died, he wasn't really needed so much as the rock in the family anymore, and his real and true reason to live was gone. I mean, to be honest, I had the childish Idea that he would be around forever in my head....boy was I proved wrong.
There's so much more to say and share about this two amazing people...but I don't think it's needed. Grandpa was a well decorated war hero, a veteran of four tours of Vietnam. But if you asked about his medals the most he'd really say is "That and fifty cents will buy you a cup of coffee." Ever the humble hero. When he did share war stories, it was only of the animals and the local's he encountered while staying there. Most all his stories were cute and charming; a giant bull elephant paruzing his pockets for an apple every morning. A bird that could recite the commercials on the radio to you, another bird that could swear worse then a sailor. The worlds meanest cat that got attacked by a monkey every now and then. A pinned wild dog that slowly became my Grandpa's friend. And of course, the local's shaking there heads and saying "Those damned crazy Americans." As the American's sat around eating clams raw, and doing things the "American" way.
And still I could fill a novel or two on their stories.
Why am I writing this? Through a cold medicine induced hazy state, I was inspired by a thought of weather or not they'd be proud of me if they could see me now, if they were still here with me. There is nothing in the world that could make me doubt their love for me, and I'm sure on some level they're proud that I'm doing things with my life, I have a job, a car (kinda), am going to school, and taking baby steps towards my future and ultimate goal...I guess, really, I wrote this because I missed them....and somehow, I felt this would be a good way to remember them, to share their stories, the important lessons they taught me, and really a selfish moment of reminiscence.
One day I'll see them again, I have a confidant hope that it'll happen. And I hope they'll be just as proud of me on that day, as I hope they are of me now.
On January 31st, 2009 my Grandma died of small cell carsisomethingsomething, smoking being a cause, as well as quite a few other things that just weren't happy for her. She was an amazing woman, more like a mother to me then a grandma...a best friend really, taught me to be strong and to find that strength in hope, happiness and optimism. To trust others, but not foolishly, they have to earn it, and once they earn it they have to work to keep it. And love, for friends, family, lovers, is everlasting in it's own way. When she died I resolved that I was going to make her proud, by doing what I could to be just like her, beautiful and amazing, on the inside and the outside.
Now, six months after grandma left us, grandpa also died unexpectantly. He died peacfully in his sleep, lounging on his bed, hands behind his head, and a smile on his face. He had just gotten home from spending a week at my aunt's (his daughter's) and just getting out of the house.
Here's the thing, my grandparents were true soul mates. No joke. Before when Grandpa was really sick in the hospital and things were looking good for him (a year or so before grandma died) Grandma said she'd never forgive him if he left her first, she wouldn't know what to do with out him. They were married 50 some odd years or so.
After Grandma was gone, Grandpa was physically well, his many a fight with cancer was starting to truly take off, as in pretty much come to an end, and things were looking up. But the loss of the love of his life took an obvious toll on him emotionally. He was a man that always, annoyingly, had to be doing something. He couldn't just sit still for two seconds. Growing up, I remember he'd putts around in the garage doing god knows what, come inside and putts around doing...again god knows what. But after grandma he sat in front of the boob tube all day, never really had too much energy to just get up and do something. His favorite thing to do was to go to WinCo and grocery shop, because he got to get out of the house. I would spend time with him when I could, and my Dad, his girlfriend Tammy (the pseudo step-mom) and the rest of the family would also do what they could to spend time with him, even though it helped him some, we weren't Grandma.
And I think that's the real reason he died, he wasn't really needed so much as the rock in the family anymore, and his real and true reason to live was gone. I mean, to be honest, I had the childish Idea that he would be around forever in my head....boy was I proved wrong.
There's so much more to say and share about this two amazing people...but I don't think it's needed. Grandpa was a well decorated war hero, a veteran of four tours of Vietnam. But if you asked about his medals the most he'd really say is "That and fifty cents will buy you a cup of coffee." Ever the humble hero. When he did share war stories, it was only of the animals and the local's he encountered while staying there. Most all his stories were cute and charming; a giant bull elephant paruzing his pockets for an apple every morning. A bird that could recite the commercials on the radio to you, another bird that could swear worse then a sailor. The worlds meanest cat that got attacked by a monkey every now and then. A pinned wild dog that slowly became my Grandpa's friend. And of course, the local's shaking there heads and saying "Those damned crazy Americans." As the American's sat around eating clams raw, and doing things the "American" way.
And still I could fill a novel or two on their stories.
Why am I writing this? Through a cold medicine induced hazy state, I was inspired by a thought of weather or not they'd be proud of me if they could see me now, if they were still here with me. There is nothing in the world that could make me doubt their love for me, and I'm sure on some level they're proud that I'm doing things with my life, I have a job, a car (kinda), am going to school, and taking baby steps towards my future and ultimate goal...I guess, really, I wrote this because I missed them....and somehow, I felt this would be a good way to remember them, to share their stories, the important lessons they taught me, and really a selfish moment of reminiscence.
One day I'll see them again, I have a confidant hope that it'll happen. And I hope they'll be just as proud of me on that day, as I hope they are of me now.
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