Friday, March 25, 2011

i've been trying to figure out how to write about this for days now; twenty-three to be exact. but for once i am truly struggling. i don't really know what will come out as i write this one, (and it will probably not be a well written piece) but i just need to let it flow. i'm one of those people that tends to hold onto hope, but there may be a fine line between hope and naivete or even hope and pure denial. i got to visit my grandpa in the hospital on february 12th. he had been there (unexpectedly) for several weeks. when i left that room, i honestly believed that he would get better. i knew it would be a long road of recovery, but i really thought i would see him again. hope or denial?

grandpa passed away a week and a half later, and i found myself at my first funeral. i know, almost thirty and never been to funeral? i sat in the pew with my sisters and watched as person after person hugged my grandma. it quickly became clear that grandpa was a well-liked man as the room was packed. we had been hearing stories of some of these people for years. a handful of them read my blog and have followed my past adventures. in some ways, we felt like we knew each other, but we had never actually met. by the time i left for home, i had a deep admiration for my grandparents' friends.

it's been almost a month since his death and i'm finding it interesting the things we remember about him; my sister keeps talking about the clicking of his dentures when he chews his gum. i sometimes hear his voice, "well, ya know amanda...". and that darn pink frosting; at its mention during the funeral, i could no longer hold back my tears.

i don't know what else to say. it's not profound. it's far from funny. but it is therapeutic. and that's about all i can ask for right now.