"So long sweet misery, I don't need you, you've only caused me grief."

My grandpa passed away last night in his sleep and if I could have been by his side this is what I would have said:


Grandpa,

           I sat in bed yesterday trying to remember every thing I could about you. I laughed at a lot of the stories you had told me, the hatchet one most specifically. I remembered the time when Payton and I came up to Oregon and stayed with you and Leanie in your motor coach for a week and when we played board games and ate Oreos while you drove. I remembered your wedding sitting in the aisle and knowing how genuinely special you must be if my grandma was so in love. I remember you at my eighth grade commencement, and then my high school graduation, my volleyball games, my softball games, plays, birthdays, and college going away parties: mostly I remembered that I am loved, so loved, by you.
       In my dorm room I have a picture of the two of us the day I left for college wrapped up in a big hug and that is how I will remember you: with your whole body wrapped around mine with just love between us. Death is a scary thing for everyone and I won’t deny that I am terrified. I am scared for my Leanie who is broken-hearted. But, please don’t you be, we are all looking out for her and she is going to be alright. I am scared for next Christmas without you, I am scared for the next few days that have a whole lot of sadness inside them, mostly I am scared that one day I am going to wake up and that fear won’t be there anymore. That pain that is in my stomach now will be forgotten and my head keeps telling me that when that day comes, I will have forgotten about you; my heart knows that’s not true.
It is hard for me to have seen you three weeks ago at my birthday party in San Diego. We ate lunch together at the round table with all my high school friends and you told stories about the Navy. So when I got a phone call yesterday, my brain just couldn’t fit the pieces together. There was no way that you couldn’t be the healthier grandpa I had left at home. These are all worldly fears though; the thought of losing love, losing a friend, the loneliness mostly—it scares us all but you will be beyond that soon—that is a happy thought.
        At that last lunch, I tapped you on the shoulder and whispered that you were my favorite. It was a game we had played before, back and forth and I liked to see you smile each time like it was something new I was whispering. So for the last time grandpa, you are my favorite. Smile big because the Big Man upstairs doesn’t want a frown walking through the pearly gates and neither do I.

Love always your granddaughter,
Brett Ashley 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    Like I said in my letter to my Gramps, death is scary. This week has been a struggle understandably. I have been battling the ironic presence of death in life, and not just death but pain. I believe in the power of love and I do think that the world has more good than it does bad. I believe we are all rooted in love and because of that we are all rooted in goodness. But when life seems intolerable, it is difficult to not sulk in self-pity. 

   This last weekend I spent with a friend that shared the feeling of inadequacy when he was around other people. Another friend, struggles with finances and doesn't know if he gets to come back to school next year. An old friend was denied a friendship because she told her friend that she was an atheist. A new friend's sister is pregnant at 16. All these stories spun around my head last night. I was sitting in a friend's room while a group played on their guitars and I was reminded in that moment the joy that we all take part in each day. Here I was, sullen and depressed and the guys were singing at the top of their lungs! I was presented a choice, to let the sadness surround me and leave me sorrowful or rejoice in a life well lived and sing along. I was reminded how connected we all are and how easily it is to become disjointed from everyone else around me because I think that my problems are so much more lofty than others. Here we all were, in a struggle, and we sang. Loud.