Saturday, March 30, 2013

Give Sorrow Words

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.” 
― Macbeth

It has taken me a long time to get around to writing in my blog again.  There's no rule that says you have to write about the bad times as much as the good, but in this case I don't feel that I could go on writing about anything else until I got this one out of my system.  It's just taken me a while to muster up the courage and motivation. 

On February 15th, my grandpa passed away.  I was away on a weekend trip with my friend Meagan when my mom got the news to me.  As soon as I got back to Madrid late Sunday night/early Monday morning, we booked a flight (an incredibly and surprisingly cheap last minute flight), I unpacked and then repacked my bags, slept for 4 hours, got up in the morning and headed right back to the airport.  One of the longest flights I have ever experienced. 

My grandpa was an incredible person.  He was a man of few words, but that usually just meant that when he had something to say it was worth listening to.  He loved to tell stories and he loved to hear them told.  He was full of funny witticisms. Don't hang with the crows or you're gonna get shot.  He loved basketball and he hated when people missed their freethrows. A freethrow is the easiest shot in basketball: You've got 10 seconds to do it, it's the same distance every time, and no one is guarding you. He always seemed to be thinking about something so simple, yet very puzzling, and waited until the right moment to ask his curiosities out loud. Why do they make a lid for the toilet seat if you just keep it up all the time anyway?  He did what he loved and worked hard every day of his life, up until his disease didn't allow him to anymore. 
As hard as the wake and funeral and everything after and in between were during that week, it was also filled with light hearted moments, laughter, and happiness amidst the sorrow.  Never has my heart felt so torn in two totally different directions: Incomparable sadness for having to say goodbye to this person I made myself believe could live forever vs.  Giddy joy to be home with my family and for the great stories and memories we shared about my grandpa amongst ourselves and with friends.

Although I had a lot of things I wanted to write about in this post, I think it is best to leave it short and sweet.  I don't know how long it will take me to come to terms with the fact that when I get home this summer, my grandpa won't be sitting in his rocking chair by the window reading the Sunday paper.  But, as they say, time heals everything.  Eventually I will be consoled by these memories rather than put to tears.