I actually wrote this post about 2 years ago soon after my dad’s father passed away. Never posted it for some reason. Anyway, here it is, with zero updates since the day I wrote it. It’s called, “What I Really Want To Say”:
My last living grandfather passed away a few weeks ago and it’s still feeling surreal. It’s like, that’s Pop. He’s always there. I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone. And lately what I’ve been struggling with is that I want to write about how he’s in Heaven now and have some sort of encouragement for anyone who reads this but I don’t believe I’d be writing my honest feelings. While I do believe he’s in Heaven, I don’t want to skirt around the fact that death stinks. I haven’t ever liked it and I never will. And who knows if I’ll recognize Pop in Heaven? I certainly hope so but at the end of the day, no one really knows what Heaven is going to be like, except that we’ll be with God and that’s definitely reassuring. I guess you could say I had sort of a Cinderella story as my childhood because the first death I really felt was the family dog when I was in college. By that age, a lot of people have lost grandparents, parents, maybe even brothers or sisters, but definitely a pet or three. My grandparents and extended family have really been blessed, and I’ve been blessed because they all have lived long lives. I guess I knew the day would come. Now both of my mom’s parents are gone, and my dad’s dad is gone, too. And one of my favorite relatives, Sister Walters, she was actually the first of that generation to pass away. She was awesome. She made the best lemon squares, and always got a kick out of me eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch in high school and college. She was a die-hard Seminole fan and just an all around happy person. She taught me that it’s OK to vacuum around the furniture, and it’s ok to have a room no one sees because it’s where you throw everything when you’re cleaning. She was very thoughtful.