Was something I wanted to tell a friend of mine who was crying because he/she missed his/her mother. I guess it really does suck being away from your mother or father for a long period of time and it's something I have never felt. I've only heard stories and how people miraculously deal with the situation and overcome the obstacle of not having a parent for x amount of time.
Anyway, I'm going to take this time to tell an extremely personal story.
It's not about being separated from my parents or anything, but something kind of different. To be more exact, it's going to be about my grandfathers.
Let's start with my mom's dad first.
I never knew the man. He passed away 3 months after I was born, sometime near my oldest sister's birthday (so late August). When I was younger, I couldn't help but feel that I was the one to blame for his passing, but of course this is ridiculous, right? Completely, but I still couldn't help but feel that way. Why? Well my mother and sister would talk about him in the car from time to time and reminisce about him. I felt left out because I never had any memories about him. They would talk about him as if he were a great man, a great educator, a great person, and there I was sitting in the car, wondering who this man actually was. I wondered whose stories I should believe: my father's or my mother's? I wondered if he impacted the lives of those he educated. I wondered if he had any regrets in his life. I wondered why my grandma left him.
And to add to my wonders was the fact that my siblings would always pick on me when I was younger. I don't know whether it was because of the way I acted when I was younger or because of the whole grandpa thing, but they just picked on me. They would punch me and so on and so forth. It's highly probable that I was annoying, thus causing them to be angry with me and such. But they would also call me names, which were hurtful and are just now annoying. I somehow tolerate it all now, but sometimes it just gets to me. Sometimes I just want to yell, but somehow I keep my cool. It's a good thing they don't do it all the time....
Anyhoot, onto my dad's dad. He recently passed away. My biggest regret is not knowing anything about him. When he lived with us, I tried talking to him, I tried to spend time with him, but the communication barrier could not be broken down and I got caught up in school work. All my efforts weren't exactly a waste, but it got me nowhere.
When I was around 5-8 years old, my grandparents would take care of me. I don't exactly know how to describe it because all I remember is seeing bugs under the crack of the sink (creepy, right??). All of a sudden, my parents stopped bringing me to their house. I didn't see them much, but I didn't really mind. I was a child and I didn't put much thought into it.
Another memory I have of my grandpa was when he and my dad were talking. We didn't live in the house we live in now, but we were renting it out. He and my dad were in the living room of this house (which looked way different back then) and they were both drinking Budweisers. I come over to my grandpa and he holds me in his arms then gives me a sip of his beer. The horrid taste filled my mouth and I rushed to the trash can to spit it out. The memory ends there. Short, but a little sweet I guess.
Now I find it ironic that I'm finding out things I never knew about him after he passed away. Like how he had four wives and how he had 9 children (well 8 since one passed away) with my grandma, my dad's mom. And how he has 33 grandchildren just on my dad's side. Another thing was that he took care of a family friend's dad when he was younger and they both lived in Vietnam. And that this family friend's dad passed away and my grandpa (according to the friend, but I think it was my dad who did it....) gave him one of the four grave spots that were reserved for my grandpa, my grandma, my mom, and my dad. I don't know if that sentence made any sense, but hopefully it did.
I dunno... there are just a lot of things that I didn't get to know about my grandpas when they were both alive and I wish I knew more about them. Wishing doesn't do much, but there's nothing else I can really do.
Moral of the story? Get to know those you care about. Death is a tricky thing. It comes when you least expect it.
On a somewhat related note, I think I should go visit my grandpa's grave soon.... I don't want to go alone, but I guess I have to...
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