Wake up and Pee, the World is on Fire.
Eight years ago today, my grandpa died. My grandpa was probably the coolest person I’ve ever met, but I didn’t know it when he was around. The more stories I hear about him from my aunts and uncles the more I love him, and I miss him. I’ve been thinking about him so much lately, mostly because everything has been so shitty. I keep wishing he was around so he could just talk to me, tell me something real, and funny to make me feel better. He was never one to sugar coat things, but he always knew how to be extremely caring. He was so harsh with everyone else, but he loved me and my brother so much. Not to say he loved us more than any of the other grandchildren, but my brother and I spent our entire lives living within one hour of grandpa, save the four years we lived in Italy. We had such a special bond with him. It’s pretty impossible to express how much I miss him, though I keep trying. I always wonder what he would think of the people in my life right now. He would absolutely adore Bailey. I know that if he was still around the three of us would have a beer or two together. I wish all the time he could talk to me about Mike, the cancer, everything. My Uncle Rick is the closest person I have to my grandpa. He acts like him, and especially now he’s starting to look like him. He has many of the idiosyncrasies that made me love my grandpa so much. The little sayings, the protective nature of him. It’s all there. He was here last week and as Mike and I were leaving he shouted, “Take care of my niece or I’ll bury you.” Probably in jest, but maybe a little serious. I wish I had someone like that around all the time. I like the protection those little jokes bring. Don’t get me wrong, I have a great father, but he wouldn’t say those things. He would just hunt you in the night and take action. No warning. I wonder almost everyday if my grandpa would be proud of the young lady (psh, lady) I’ve become. I really, really hope I’ve made him proud.
1 year ago • Notes