Three years ago today my grandfather passed away suddenly. A combination of things– my grandfather being more like my father than a grandpa to me, me being at home and having to attempt CPR when it happened, his death being my first experience with someone close to me dying, all combined to make it the single most difficult thing that I have ever had to deal with in my entire life.
It’s been three years and I still can’t think about him too long or the tears come up and my throat gets tight.
It isn’t that I think he’s gone forever or that he’s not somewhere better. My particular religion has a very strong positive position on the afterlife. The ironic thing is that though I would consider myself to be a very (privately) religious person, I found that after my grandfather’s death I couldn’t take comfort in the idea that he was somewhere ‘better’. It still hurts my heart to know that I can’t just point to a particular spot in the sky and say “There. That’s where he’s at.”
I don’t know if I’ll ever reach a point where I don’t feel like I have a raw open place that never seems to heal. Most people wouldn’t ever guess that this still hurts me like it does–I’m very good at being able to act like everything is all fine and well and that life has gone on. I find that I even have a hard time putting my feelings about my grandfather’s death into words when I talk to my husband about it.
So, DRB, wherever you might be, we still miss you.
Leslie says:
I don’t think we ever really get over these things the way they tell us we will when we’re kids. It’s been three years since my grandfather died too and I still feel very much the same way. Hang in there.
November 7th, 2006 at 8:15 pm