Paw-Paw's Gone
At around a quarter to noon on Sunday morning, Sept. 20, my grandfather (affectionately known as Paw-Paw Joe) passed away. He would have been 75 in two weeks.
It was not unexpected, as you all know. He's been battling a brain tumor for over a year and a half. The past few months saw him getting worse and worse after nearly a year of doing great, showing progress and feeling fairly well.
However expected it may have been, though--and however much I'd already been grieving these last couple of months--nothing could have possibly prepared me for the heartbreak of knowing that I'll never hear his voice again. Never see his face or share a laugh with him. I know he's in a better place. He's finally with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He's no longer in pain. No longer suffering the indignities the tumor afforded. He's happy.
I, however, am not doing so great. I miss him terribly. The oddest things remind me of him. A word or phrase, a sound, a smell--I think of him and the tears start up again. It's just so hard to imagine a life without him. Even though we knew this time would come, in my heart I wouldn't let myself believe that it would come to this. This dark, lonely place. I guess I thought if I believed he'd live here forever, that he actually would.
And what's worse, the rest of the word doesn't seem to notice how the earth stopped spinning on it's axis. The rest of the world goes on with living which means that I must go on with living as well. Even though life will never be the same again. Even though I miss him so much it hurts to think about him.
Seeing him in that casket--seeing his face but knowing that he'd never crack another joke or tell me I'd done good again--and worse, seeing the casket closed and knowing my beloved Paw-Paw was shut away from me forever was nearly my undoing.
I know I'll see him again someday when I, myself, get to Heaven. My heart knows that. Even my head knows it. But the little girl who loved him so much just feels so brokenhearted right now.
At some point I may share the story of the day he left us. For right now, I just need to hold all of that close to my heart.
It was not unexpected, as you all know. He's been battling a brain tumor for over a year and a half. The past few months saw him getting worse and worse after nearly a year of doing great, showing progress and feeling fairly well.
However expected it may have been, though--and however much I'd already been grieving these last couple of months--nothing could have possibly prepared me for the heartbreak of knowing that I'll never hear his voice again. Never see his face or share a laugh with him. I know he's in a better place. He's finally with his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He's no longer in pain. No longer suffering the indignities the tumor afforded. He's happy.
I, however, am not doing so great. I miss him terribly. The oddest things remind me of him. A word or phrase, a sound, a smell--I think of him and the tears start up again. It's just so hard to imagine a life without him. Even though we knew this time would come, in my heart I wouldn't let myself believe that it would come to this. This dark, lonely place. I guess I thought if I believed he'd live here forever, that he actually would.
And what's worse, the rest of the word doesn't seem to notice how the earth stopped spinning on it's axis. The rest of the world goes on with living which means that I must go on with living as well. Even though life will never be the same again. Even though I miss him so much it hurts to think about him.
Seeing him in that casket--seeing his face but knowing that he'd never crack another joke or tell me I'd done good again--and worse, seeing the casket closed and knowing my beloved Paw-Paw was shut away from me forever was nearly my undoing.
I know I'll see him again someday when I, myself, get to Heaven. My heart knows that. Even my head knows it. But the little girl who loved him so much just feels so brokenhearted right now.
At some point I may share the story of the day he left us. For right now, I just need to hold all of that close to my heart.
Comments
I was wondering why you'd been so quiet this week. So sorry to hear of your loss, though it is good your grandfather is no longer suffering. Try to remember all the good time you had together during this difficult time.
Much love...
But, and I know this sounds trite, things do get better. The grief slowly but surely goes away. You'll always remember him, usually with a smile, but at this point it's hard to imagine that.
Just know that my thoughts and prayers are with you and yours. Love ya, girlie. :)
Aunt B
There's nothing I can say or do to make you feel better. However, I just want to send big hugs to you and your family. You have to remember the good times you had together and keep those memories close to your heart. He lives on in you always.