On Friday i got the call, my Grandad was nearing the end of his earthly journey.
On Saturday morning he passed away.
I am not really certain how i feel yet. I haven't even had a moment to sit down and process the information properly. I haven't even shed a tear. Sure i have spent plenty of time on the phone to my mum and booked my flight for the funeral. But I find myself wondering, how do i feel about this?
I am hoping that writing this all down will help me process.
What i do know is, i am so glad that i made the trip to see him
a couple of weeks ago. I got to see and speak to him while he was still conscious and he got to meet my gorgeous little ones, for this i feel most grateful and revealed. I am glad that he didn't have to suffer for long and it wasn't drawn out for everyone's sake. At eighty seven, he was old and had had a good life. I don't mean to sound insensitive, i am just realistic. He was ready to go, he had told me so, you could see it in his eyes.
That doesn't mean i am any less sad. he was my Grandad after all. We haven't been so close in resent years, but as a child we spent a lot of time together. We lived close to my Grandparents and spent many an afternoon at their place. Apple cake, orange juice and tea for the grown ups was the way it went. In the summer we swam in their pool and let the cat lick melted ice cream from our bowls. My Grandad was tough but kind, playful but strong. He drank whiskey and beer and sometimes the two together, in these cute little schooner glasses with his name engraved on them. He was handy too, or at least seemed to be. He made us our very own special table and chairs, had a garage he spent a lot of time in and painted anything that stood still lovely mission brown and in later years that awful green colour. He sat at his table in the sun and read the newspaper for what seemed like all day, he had a budgie called Lucky in a yellow birdcage and a dog called Tiger along with many others. For a while there i went to church with my Grandparents every Sunday, i liked the stories and the singing.
I loved the time spent together and although our relationship changed over the years it does not mean it was of any less importance. Just different.
What makes me most upset about the whole thing, is my family. My Aunts and Uncles and Cousins. One would think at this difficult, stressful and highly emotional time that they could come together, put their differences behind them, that they could begin to treat each other with compassion and kindness. But no. The bitterness continues. A stake has been driven between them all, causing such division and heartbreak.
Living so far away, i feel removed from the situation, some would say i am the black sheep having left the flock, but this way i have a better view and can see clearly what is going on. I wish i could stand before them all and speak my mind freely. I would tell them how foolish they are. Can they not see how short this life is? That all their lies are unnecessary. They should be honest with each other and communicate openly. It is the only way to move forward. They should be united and grieve together.
I don't think they even know why they are fighting anymore. Maybe it is because they are all too similar? No one honestly really knows what has gone on over the years to make the family this way. The truth is lost and each one of them tells a different story.
I wish i could say it all, i know i won't, i don't have the balls.
But i will go. Be there to support my mum. And say goodbye to my Grandad.
And the tears will flow.
How have you and your families reacted to the loss of a loved one? Did it bring them together or cause more problems like it has mine?
x jody
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