The Circle of Life

Hey, Interwebers.

Remember my last post? About my grandpa? Well, a lot has changed since that post.

None of my feelings about him have changed, but I guess I'm more forgiving. And god, does this make me seem heartless. I honestly don't know how to feel at this moment and none of you guys know what I'm rambling on about but I'm sure a few of you have an idea so I'm just going to say it.

My grandpa died last Wednesday early in the morning.

It was a hard day. He stopped responding Monday night so my brother told Ari and I to go see him on Tuesday. He seemed to be getting better, but the doctors kept talking like he wouldn't last long. I decided not to go to my evening class because I wasn't sure what would happen. I completely forgot about the YWiC meeting I had to go to, so I called Sasha to explain what was happening, but I still didn't believe what the doctors were saying. We got there at 3:30 and didn't leave until 9. My mom was crying a lot of the time, and my uncle David had tears in his eyes. It was hard to watch.

About two hours after we got home and an hour after my mom got home, she got a call from her brother Juan to go to the hospital. Grandpa had stopped breathing a few times and they didn't think he had much time. Mom left at 11:30 and we got a text soon thereafter that they were taking Grandpa off the bi-pap (which was keeping him alive). Not an hour later and he was gone. My brother drove my dad, Ari, and me to the hospital to go be with our family. There were 19 people in a 10x10 room to pray for the man responsible for nearly all of us. We prayed the rosary for him and talked about him and our memories and just remembered him. None of us had dry eyes.

We didn't go back home until 3:30 in the morning. I passed out on my bed and slept until 9 the next day. When I woke up, it felt like the night before was just a bad dream. Then I saw my mom crying and I knew it was real. It's been hard to reconcile with that fact the past few days. Logically, I know that he's gone, but I can't accept it until the services tomorrow. My heart won't let me. I haven't let myself properly grieve. We keep talking about him in the past tense but I haven't had a surge of memories strong enough for me to cry it all out. Granted, I had short bursts on Wednesday afternoon, but I can't seem to cry anymore. Writing this post had brought up more emotions than being at home have.

Maybe it's that he was almost 86. He didn't die suddenly. He wasn't young. He didn't seem in pain. And really, it wasn't that much of a surprise. So maybe that's why I don't feel so hurt. I feel pain for my mom and her siblings, though. They're orphans now, if we want to be technical. I wasn't alive when my mom's mom died from cancer, but I've heard about how bad it was for her. I haven't seen her cry a lot since Grandpa died, so I think she's handling this death better. She's definitely better this time around than she was with Luis. I think it's for the reasons mentioned above. We're all gonna cry tomorrow, but afterwards I think we'll be fine. We'll remember him and we'll talk about him but it won't feel like someone ripped a hole into each of our hearts.

Instead, it will feel like a part of us is missing, a part that can never be replaced, but that can be filled with love and memories. And that's how I will choose to respond to this. It's the first time I've lost someone this close to me, so it will take some adjustments, but I don't want to be dragged down by the grief. So I will remember and I will love, and maybe someday soon we will all heal.

So long for now.