On remorse
My Grandfather passed away this morning. On Sunday he had a stroke and was stabilised. His condition deteriorated and today he died. I can't tell you the details. He will be buried on Thursday and I'm to be a pall-bearer. Something I'm farmiliar with.
I think I have a fragmented concept of family at this point. Both of my parents worked while I was growing up. It has been hard to feel much about anyone. I lived in the UK with a Cousin that became a dear friend. I did miss my Mom and I was occasionally sad about my grandparents - mostly because I was too young to get to know them properly. The only family I see semi-regulary is my Grandmother on my Mom's side and - less often - my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin.
The Grandfather that just passed was on my Father's side. My parents are both remarried. I was torn up by their split but it was clear that it was not my fault and that neither of them loved me any less. I don't see my Father's side of the family anymore. It's not intentional, we just run in different circles. It's a strange way to put it but nobody intends to become estranged.
My Dad has been visiting for the last three weeks. In a way, the passing couldn't have happened at a better time. When his Mother passed, he couldn't make the trip out. He prepared a eulogy for her and I read it at the ceremony. It was well written. I'm better at speaking someone elses words than my own. I was too quiet on the day. I seem to think that if I can hear myself, then everyone else can too. It was decided that copies of the speech were to be made and handed out to whomever was interested.
After that, my Maternal Grandfather succumbed to lymphoma. We used to live next door to my Grandparents and my Aunt. He was bed-ridden and cared for at home. I couldn't bear to be around near the end. It was long and ugly. Shouldn't it be though? Birth certainly is!
I recall a day that the Greek Orthodox Bishop was to visit. My Grandad wanted to be presentable and since my Gran had never shaved a face before I was charged with the task. I frothed up the soap and used the disposable as neatly and carefully as I could. It was humbling: sitting there in my school uniform, wiping off the extra soap.
I put another another person in the ground. A person that was responsible for my existence. A person that moulded the person that moulded me. I was part of something amazing at the time. Something that shaped me more and more as I got to know her and she was both my escape and my saviour on that day. All I know is that there is no going back for anyone.
I think I have a fragmented concept of family at this point. Both of my parents worked while I was growing up. It has been hard to feel much about anyone. I lived in the UK with a Cousin that became a dear friend. I did miss my Mom and I was occasionally sad about my grandparents - mostly because I was too young to get to know them properly. The only family I see semi-regulary is my Grandmother on my Mom's side and - less often - my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin.
The Grandfather that just passed was on my Father's side. My parents are both remarried. I was torn up by their split but it was clear that it was not my fault and that neither of them loved me any less. I don't see my Father's side of the family anymore. It's not intentional, we just run in different circles. It's a strange way to put it but nobody intends to become estranged.
My Dad has been visiting for the last three weeks. In a way, the passing couldn't have happened at a better time. When his Mother passed, he couldn't make the trip out. He prepared a eulogy for her and I read it at the ceremony. It was well written. I'm better at speaking someone elses words than my own. I was too quiet on the day. I seem to think that if I can hear myself, then everyone else can too. It was decided that copies of the speech were to be made and handed out to whomever was interested.
After that, my Maternal Grandfather succumbed to lymphoma. We used to live next door to my Grandparents and my Aunt. He was bed-ridden and cared for at home. I couldn't bear to be around near the end. It was long and ugly. Shouldn't it be though? Birth certainly is!
I recall a day that the Greek Orthodox Bishop was to visit. My Grandad wanted to be presentable and since my Gran had never shaved a face before I was charged with the task. I frothed up the soap and used the disposable as neatly and carefully as I could. It was humbling: sitting there in my school uniform, wiping off the extra soap.
I put another another person in the ground. A person that was responsible for my existence. A person that moulded the person that moulded me. I was part of something amazing at the time. Something that shaped me more and more as I got to know her and she was both my escape and my saviour on that day. All I know is that there is no going back for anyone.
Labels: death, relationships
At 09:37 Debaser mumbled incoherently.
2 Comments:
Aah! Tears. I am so very sorry, my friend, about your loss.
The most valuable things the dead leave us are the living. Use them well, nurture them, cherish them, strengthen their ties with this life.
At times like these it seems customary to say something profound. Unfortunately, after everything, I have no words for you that seem appropriate. I just wanted to say something, even if it seems like nothing at all.
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