Somedays I sit and wonder what my life would have been like with you in it. I wonder what we would bond over. Maybe I would have more of a green thumb like my brothers and my mom.
I dream of the conversations we may have had, all the inside jokes we could have created or the sayings of yours I may have picked up on. I think about all of the life lessons you would have taught me.
Every time Mom or Grandma tells me a little something about you, I instantly start to laugh. I really start laughing when Mom tells me all about the times you tried to scare her, or how you rigged household appliances to work in the craziest ways possible. Those are little stories that make me feel closer to you, especially since those are things both I and my mom tend to do. She clearly learned it from you.
Some days I get angry that I never had a grandfather who lived close by or that I really bonded with.
Other days, I see it as God's way of intervening, a way of knowing my siblings and I wouldn't have been able to handle the loss whenever it may have been during our lifetime. Of course, it's sad that I never met you, but I know we would have gotten along great - another gift to others because we would probably annoy everyone, especially Grandma.
The other day I came across your wallet and your driver's license on your old dresser in Grandma's room. Being able to hold something that once belonged to you really made me feel as if you were with me.
Then Mom went to move something and cassette tapes above your dresser fell all over the place. We both took it as an indication that you wanted us to stop doing whatever we were doing and to stop messing with your tapes.
Every time I see a cardinal, I'm convinced it's you.
During my first week at college, I saw a cardinal on my way to one of my first classes and it jumped out right in front of me. I was telling Mom about it and she said it was you trying to cheer me up. She told me all the stories of the ways you would jump out and scare her just to see her laugh.
I will never forget the night I dreamt about you.
You were sitting on Mom's bed in a white shirt with a brown cardigan vest. You reached your arms out to me and we hugged for what felt like a lifetime. When I woke up, my pillow was soaked and I had tears going down my face. That was the moment in which I knew you were watching over me.
There have been many instances, especially recently, in which I have learned a lot about you. With each little tidbit of information I get, I hold onto it and fixate it in order to imagine what you were like. I try and imagine the type of grandfather you would have been to me. Despite never meeting you, I know you love me and you are watching over me.
I love you.