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My Grandfather
Dec. 19th, 2010 04:23 amGot the call about 1 am, while I was at my mom's. Just got home from the hospital a little while ago.
I'm trying to - okay. My parents moved to New Mexico from San Francisco when I was six months old because New Mexico was where my grandparents lived. My grandfather had had, at that point, skin cancer, six heart attacks, and quadruple bypass surgery, and all his doctors were saying things were bad, very bad. Six months to live bad. No one expected him to last out the year, and my parents thought that if I couldn't grow up with him, at least we could be there. At least they could get some pictures of me with him before he died. And then we moved out here and he - didn't.
That's twenty one years of borrowed time, time I never should have had with him. Twenty one years of - of fishing trips and model trains and cartoons and family dinners and family stories and the two dollhouses that he built for me. He saw my cousins grow up and get married and have their own kids. He saw me graduate high school. He won't see me graduate college, but he saw how much I loved it and he knew that I would.
Twenty one years of my life with him in it, when he should have died when I was a baby. That's a long time, isn't it?
I try to keep thinking that. Maybe tomorrow it will make me feel better. All I can think about right now is how much I already miss him.
I'm trying to - okay. My parents moved to New Mexico from San Francisco when I was six months old because New Mexico was where my grandparents lived. My grandfather had had, at that point, skin cancer, six heart attacks, and quadruple bypass surgery, and all his doctors were saying things were bad, very bad. Six months to live bad. No one expected him to last out the year, and my parents thought that if I couldn't grow up with him, at least we could be there. At least they could get some pictures of me with him before he died. And then we moved out here and he - didn't.
That's twenty one years of borrowed time, time I never should have had with him. Twenty one years of - of fishing trips and model trains and cartoons and family dinners and family stories and the two dollhouses that he built for me. He saw my cousins grow up and get married and have their own kids. He saw me graduate high school. He won't see me graduate college, but he saw how much I loved it and he knew that I would.
Twenty one years of my life with him in it, when he should have died when I was a baby. That's a long time, isn't it?
I try to keep thinking that. Maybe tomorrow it will make me feel better. All I can think about right now is how much I already miss him.