They say the first stage in coping with death is denial.
I wouldn’t know.
I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before. One day he’s here and the next, he is gone. Gone. The end. I’ve never know what to say in situations when someone loses a loved one. I never think too much of it. Now the tables have turned and I’m forced into the spotlight of grief. When she called me that Wednesday morning at 10:21 AM, I was busy in my routine. She messed it up. She messed up my life. This messed up my life, my routine, my normalcy. This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen. Not like this and certainly not now.
He really is gone.
I find myself all too often thinking that phrase. I hate it. I hate thinking it. I hate that it’s actually true. I miss him. Everyday. I’ve never seen death up close and frankly, never wanted to. I fear death. The thought of death makes me anxious, nervous and all I want to do is run somewhere and hide. I start to panic and get hysterical and cry. I wasn’t ready to face death head on.
My grandpa died exactly two weeks ago from the result of a horrible accident that left him broken and unconscious for a week and one day. I’ve never watched someone die. It was awful and that’s all I keep replaying in my head. The breaths he took. How they slowed down to where I heard his last one. It was rainy that day. Right for the occasion I suppose. I really couldn’t believe that my grandpa just died. He was too young, too active. I thought he would live forever. Well not really, but longer than this. I thought I had more time. Time is a sneaky thing. It creeps up on you and before you know it, it has run out. I wanted my time. I still want more time.
I feel like I’m forgetting. I don’t want to forget.
God, I don’t want to forget.
I’m a Christian. I love God with all my heart and I know my grandpa is in heaven, but it’s still hard to accept. My grandpa was a good man. He was a character, that’s for sure. He loved his family unconditionally. We didn’t always love him or express it. I hate that. We felt like he bothered us at times. I wish I could have those times back. I never will. I have learned so many things about my grandpa and the man he was because he died. I wish I would have asked him these things before. I still hear his voice and laughter. I hope I never forget those sounds. I know he’s free. Of the horrible pain he was in. The shape he was in after the accident. His spirit is free.
I don’t know how to deal. I get so angry with people and just want to hide. I just want to cry. All day. Sometimes I wish I could just freeze life and cry. It’s weird to think how life is still happening all around me while I am dealing with this. I want to go home. As in heaven. I want to be with him. I don’t want to deal with life anymore. I hate the routines, the busyness, the anger and hurt in this world. I know God has a plan for this and I know I’m meant to stay to raise my child and love my husband. Life is short. It is not guaranteed. It is gone in an instant. I’ve learned that I need to change. I don’t want to have hate in my heart for anyone or be broken or bitter. I want to live life to the fullest and love everyone. Even and especially the unloveable. I need to carry on my grandpa’s legacy of always showing love. Unconditional love. I love my grandpa. With all my heart and I miss him like crazy. I will continue on with this life and charge on through this grief. I will draw near to the Lord and let Him comfort me and ease my pain.
I will forever love you grandpa. You have been set free.