My grandpa had just passed away. I had a hopeful thought that it was all a dream and I would find him on his screened in porch attached to the white house with navy blue shutters. He would be smoking tobacco from one of his many corn cob pipes; the kind that had a bitter, sweet smell that reminded me of the times we sat around the bonfire telling jokes and old stories. When I never woke up, I realized that it was not a dream. It was time to face reality. Grandpa was gone and I would never smell that bitter sweet smell again.
Grandpa and I always teased each other about whatever nonsense we could think of. He would say, “You ugly shmuck, what do you think you are doing?” “Who are you calling ugly, old man? Have you looked in the mirror lately?” I’d say. We would bicker all the time, but we always knew that our bickering was an "I love you" in disguise. Ever since I was a child I called him "Grandpa Butthead," and in return he would call me a "little hummer." It’s the little things like nicknames and joking around that make me miss him the most.
Once, at a party my grandpa asked one of his grandsons to sit on his lap, but his grandson walked away from him. I saw the look on his face, and even as a young girl, I knew he was heartbroken. So I walked over, and I sat on his lap. I did not do it out of pity, but because I loved my grandpa and he deserved to know that I loved him. After the party my grandma took me aside she said, “Did you know that you just made Grandpa’s day? Having you sit on his lap meant the world to him.” It was at that moment that I realized how much my grandpa loved me, and how much that I loved him.
The last days with my grandpa were filled with tears and sorrow, but I am so thankful for those days, because I was able to say goodbye before he had passed. When there was no one in his room, I would go and sit next to him for hours. I talked about everything from movies to what was going on at school; and even though he was not really able to respond, I am positive that he heard me. I know he could hear me because he would make a noise if I had said something funny, or he would slightly squeeze my hand if I had started to cry. I constantly said how much I loved him, because I never knew when it would be his time, and I am forever thankful that I was able to have that opportunity.
Since his death, I have been going day by day. At first, it was extremely difficult because almost everything reminded me of him. If his name was mentioned, tears would come to my eyes, and if death was brought up I would become extremely uncomfortable. In the beginning, I had a difficult time focusing in school and in everyday life. When my grandpa had passed away, I gave up, and I stopped trying. I walked around with a heavier heart and a darker outlook on life. As time went on, I noticed subtle differences in my attitude. Slowly, I began to think more positive, but even today I still struggle to think optimistically. If I am having a bad day, I try to think about the amazing memories I shared with my grandpa. I think about all the times he let me light the match to ignite the tobacco in his corn cob pipe, the times where we would shoot airsoft guns in the backyard, and the times we would talk about our futures. Now I am able to talk about my grandpa without breaking down in tears, and I do not get uneasy when death is mentioned. After all of the emotional trauma I had suffered through, I was able to overcome my grandpa’s death. Although I will never fully recover from his passing, I will be able to live my life without constant sadness; I will remember the wonderful memories without dwelling on the past. Though I will miss my grandpa each and every day, I can finally live a life where I am not continually consumed with sorrow.
