When I Miss GrandpaPosted: November 14, 2011
It’s been over four months since my grandpa died, but in many ways it feels like four days. In other ways it feels like four years. In still other ways I can’t believe that he’s not alive anymore. Denial perhaps. Denial probably.
I think about him often. Aside from the memories in general that flood my brain, there are many little reminders of him floating around. Some are little keepsakes I treasure. Others magnify the hole that he’s left.
Every time I open a can with the most a-MAY-zing can opener – courtesy of Grandpa Dick. Seriously, this little contraption is slick. You might even say “nifty” (because that’s how Grandpa would describe it).
When I’m scrambling to grab a potholder from the potholder drawer next to the stove and I come across the Ove Glove. Another fine piece of kitchenware gifted to me….Gramps didn’t want me burnin’ my hands.
When I see the jewelry cabinet he made for my grandma that now sits on my dresser, holding my jewelry. It’s a reminder of his handiwork, and I love having something he made for her.
When it’s Veteran’s Day and I would call Grandpa (or email back in the day) to say how proud of him I was. How proud I am.
When I would think about calling him on my way home from work but didn’t want to interrupt his 4:00 viewing of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Call after 4:30.
When I see the voicemail on my phone that he left on my birthday. I listened to it that day, and later talked to him, but I haven’t listened to it since he died. I don’t want to delete it, though….it’s like one little piece of him I can hang on to. I still have his phone number in my contacts, even though it was disconnected months ago.
When I see photos of his house changing. I was last there in August….since then there’s been quite a bit of work done to get it ready to sell in the spring. Fresh coats of paint, carpet removed, bathroom remodel, etc. My mom sent me pictures of the bathroom yesterday and it really hit me. It’s like it’s not his house anymore….or at least not the house I’ve known for the last 31 years. But he doesn’t live there anymore and it’s not the same. That makes me sad.
When I think about the upcoming holidays and how these will be the first without Grandpa. They will most certainly take on a different meaning and there will be a very noticeable, lonely void with his absence.
I’m sad from the more difficult aspects of grief that include first holidays and seeing a loved one’s home transform after their death.
But I’m glad for the simple, sillier, lighter things like a can opener or Ove Glove to keep Grandpa’s memory alive. Those reminders comfort me, make me smile, and I am strangely filled with joy whilst opening cans. Grandpa would like that. 🙂