My grampa died this morning

My sister called me this morning and told me that my grampa died this morning. Then Mom emailed me the particulars: he didn't want a funeral and wanted cremation and to be interred at the National Cemetery in Portland, OR. It was all pre-paid and everything.

It's so weird that there won't be a funeral or anything. I feel like I should do something to note his passing. And honor him and the memories I have of him. The things I loved about him.

And the graveyard in so far away. Realistically, I won't be visiting his gravesite.

Rainbow suspenders, cacti, RedLo Cacti stationary, the sound he made when you'd snap the suspenders, the game he'd play that made you look away from your plate so he could steal food (or your fork), his laugh, his weird glass eye, his marvelous garage that held awesome treasures: wood building stuff, rock polishing stuff; his greenhouse, his dahlias that topped the clothesline, his black glasses, his thin white hair, typing on my first computer at his house, learning how to play cards from him, the chinese checkers board in the coat closet at his house, the ring he made me, the table he made me, the step he made me, the clocks he made, his genealogy quests.... mostly his joy of life and all the things he yet wanted to learn! Those are the things that I remember about him.

My mom wrote: "Noteworthy and a little sweet……….  I was hoping Grampa would make it to Friday, since that was their 58^th anniversary.  When I mentioned that to Gramma this morning, she ask for today’s date.  I told her it was the 25^th.  She pointed out that the date that they really got married in 1950 was November the 25^th.  So he DID make it to their anniversary."

Misconceptions

I feel exhausted when every time I watch a movie where someone dies, I worry that Paul sees me crying and thinks I'm thinking of Rob.

It lessens my enjoyment of the movie. I wish that Paul would just take it for what it is: emotions rising from the inside of me, the passion of the piece of art I'm watching, my compassion for the character in front of me.

Or maybe he does and I'm just projecting.

Dear Rob,

I'm so happy and contented with our beautiful children. How I wish you could see them. I want to show you all the pictures I've taken of them in the past months. 

Do you remember sitting on the couch looking at Aubrey pictures when she turned one? I knew that that was to be the start of a new tradition for our growing family: to look over the past years pictures of our birthday child.

I haven't done that with Paul. I've mistakenly assumed that Paul would not be interested in looking at pictures of Aubrey and Joey before he met them. And so I didn't show him pictures of Aubrey at 1 and 2. She was 3 when Paul and I met.

But now what is my excuse? That this was our tradition and that it can't carry on to my new family? No. That's not right. That's like saying I can't celebrate the past year of my child's life through pictures with Paul because you aren't there.  ???  It doesn't quite make sense, does it?

There. I have just committed to showing Paul pictures of our little ones on their coming birthdays. And just because's.

Thanks for listening, love.

Love, Valerie