Good Grief

Apparently I don't deal well with grief. I have been blessed to not have very much practice in grieving - my grandpa is by far the closest person to me that has passed away. This past week has been very difficult and since I know that my Pop Pop was an avid follower of this blog (he and my Grandma are the main reason I have kept it up for so long) it only seems appropriate to say something here about how I feel and pay a very small tribute to his wonderful life.

I realized this past week that I rarely feel sad, which I am thankful for in general. But it has been difficult to go about everyday life, to be around people, to find the energy to just get through the day. The first few days after we got news that my grandpa probably wouldn't recover were the hardest... time just seemed to pass by each day and it felt like I was in a daze. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it which is really rare for me, and it was difficult for me to be comfortable in a group of people. I couldn't find the words to speak to the family and friends around me, and when I tried to pray tears filled the spaces where words usually flowed. I was grieving the loss of a very important person in my life; I was empathizing with the sadness of my own dad and his sisters; I was finding it hard to come to grips with what my grandmother (Pop Pop's wife of 59 years) must be feeling.

But after a few days, it somehow got better. The sun shone brighter and food tasted better. Lydia's smile reminded me of the beauty of having children - She is only here because my Grandma and Pop Pop had my dad, my dad and mom, had me and then David and I somehow produced our beautiful girl. And slowly I felt more normal... still sad, but okay.

Then my grieving turned a corner and it turned into remembering. Memories are such a beautiful gift and my mind has just been flooded with ones which included my Pop Pop. I remember sitting on his lap as a small child playing  PGA golf on his computer. I remember eating Cheese Balls and turkey sandwiches in his kitchen so many summery afternoons. Once my grandparents moved to Florida we enjoyed so many spring and summer breaks with them - going to the beach, swimming at the pool and staying inside their screened in porch. We ate garlic knots together at Big Apple Pizza, and cheeseburgers at the Galley Grille. I experienced my first and only cruise with my Pop Pop; we went to the Bahamas and my sister and I got our hair braided by a vendor on the side of the street.

In the past few years I have enjoyed regular phone conversations with my grandparents. Whenever I called they would each pick up a phone so that we could all talk together. They would ask me questions about school and life, tell me about the happenings of King's Isle (their retirement community) and every once in a while interrupt one another. My Pop Pop always made it clear to me how proud he was of me and his encouragement and praise seemed never ending. I will truly miss my grandpa and will always be sad that he never got to meet his great granddaughter, but I do find peace in the fact that he got to see her, and in a way know her, through this blog. I know she would have loved him, and the he would have spoiled her rotten. I am so blessed that he was able to connect with Lydia through pictures and weekly updates and that he was aware and proud of my greatest accomplishment.

I am proud of my Pop Pop too - the way that he lived his life. He was a wonderful husband to my Grandma and I will always look to their marriage as a model of what I want mine to be like after almost 60 years. They teased one another, loved one another and liked one another. My Grandma and Pop Pop's story will always be the example of the "classic love story" for me.

Today, on the day of his funeral in Florida, I am in a much better place. I love the memories that I have and I have changed for the better through this grieving process. I know it isn't over - that the sadness will come and go in waves but right now I can look back and be joyful and look forward and be hopeful.

Thanks for listening, whoever you are.