Dearly Departed

I had a wonderful evening yesterday with my friend. I came over to her house, thinking we will have our usual tea date, upon arrival I was pleasantly surprised to see my brother there, and his friend (our relative). Since I was not alone either - took my baby Athena with me, I asked her to join me for a walk her. Went out, exchanged news that happen in the last week, since we saw each other. She got a new job, and had few more interviews lined up for her, that was great news. I told her that I moved in with my parents for a week, and that was an explanation of why the puppy was with me.

Once we got back to her house, my brother's friend left and it was just the 3 of us playing with a puppy, my brother was eating a salad and sharing his tomatoes with Athena, so we all ended up in the kitchen, he looks at me and with a "it’s not really that important" voice said "I know you are little more open to this than all our other relatives, so I wanted to share something with you. I talked to our Grandpa." WOW, really? I don’t know how he managed the not-so-important voice, my eyes popped, and the only thing I could think of at that moment was “How? When? Really? How long ago?...” when my mind ran out of stupid questions I finally was able to ask him to tell me more.

He found a medium online, and was having skype sessions with all our dead relatives, he even let me listen to a recording when he was talking to our grandfather’s brother, who died during WWII. It was a heart wrecking experience. After that audio I was a believer that he really talked to all of them. So we started talking about our Grandfather and as always, I started crying. Every time I think or talk about my grandfather I cry. I feel really guilty about not visiting him enough once he moved out into assisted living house with my grandmother. They used to live with my parents, but living in the townhouse and having a bedroom upstairs was too much for them to handle once they turned over 85.

I remember coming over with my son to their new apartment. As long as I remember my grandmother did not leave the kitchen, she was always cooking, trying to feed everybody. When we used to come over to see them, she always had dinner ready for us, even though it was hard for her, and she was forgetting to put salt in the soup, or something else. My son and I would always eat it like it was the best thing ever, and always ask for more because it made her very happy. After dinner we would sit on the couch and flip through our old family album and talk about old relatives. When you are 25-26 years old, have a small child and all you can think is going home to a husband who will not be happy that I was gone for so long - you don’t really care about your distant family, and I so wish I remember more of those conversations.

Shortly after that my grandfather fell of the bed and broke his leg, then grandmother fell of the bed and mutilated her face, she needed plastic surgery after that. Their health started deteriorating very fast, they could no longer take their daily walks. Assisted living was not enough at that point and my family had them moved to the nursing home.

My life was not all “sunshine and butterflies” I was miserable in my marriage, I was cheating on my husband, I was hiding but I think deep down I wanted to be discovered. He was spying on me, but I don’t think he was really diligent in his attempt of that, as I never got caught, lol. I always say that everything happens for a reason. I used to meet up with my boyfriend at the nursing home, oh no, I am not a pervert in that scenes. His father was living there as well, he never recovered from his heart attack and that’s why he was living there. As bad as it sound, but thanks to him I was able to see my grandparents more often, than I would have. The visits were not very long, but every time I saw my grandfather it charged me from the inside, it made me feel loved. He was like an angel with blue eyes, he loved everyone, and I was his favorite grandchild. Yes, I am crying once again, as I write this, I have not used so much tissues today since spring allergies.

I told my brother that I was really hoping that he would come to me in my sleep, so I can see him again, and I was kinda upset that he did not, so my brother told me, that as soon as I will be able to acknowledge the fact that he died, and let him go I will be able to feel his presence. That is the hardest part, how do I do that? I have so much guilt that I did not spend enough time with him, how can I accomplish that? So he suggested I write a letter to him. That was one thing I did not want to put off. As soon as I got to work, I started writing the letter, with a box of my trusted tissues by my side.

As I was writing the letter, a realization came over me. The reason that I can't stop crying over my grandfather and can't let him go, is because I did not have any time to grief over him. No I totally understand it's not something I can schedule like 8-10 grieving time, lol. But at that time I was still with my ex-husband and he was dragging me to the swing clubs every weekend. That weekend was no acceptation, he expected me to put my feelings aside, put on a “happy face” and go dancing and meeting new people to screw later. When my dog died last year my husband tried to calm me down, and get me to stop crying and I remember telling him “please let me cry, all this has to come out, it will be a lot worse if you don’t let me grieve” and he totally understood me, leaving me alone and letting me be.

What I am finding out lately - it is very important to work through your emotions, instead of pushing them into the corner of your conscience mind. In the end it will all come back with even greater force.