My grandpa

I've been to a number of funerals in my life. Two of them died way too young (one of an accident - apx. 5 yrs old, and one of a homicide - 46). but most of them were old people I never really knew.

Unfortunately, the next forseeable funeral I'll be attending is that of my grandpa. It's only natural, he's getting old, and that's what old people do. But his funeral will be hard, because I actually have a bond with him.

He used to scare me when I was little. Mostly because we'd risk getting spanked if we did something bad. But, as I grew older, I started listening to what he had to say. That side of my family doesn't seem smart at first glance, but they are actually very intelligent. At least about things that truly matter.

Sure, most of the time he only had "advice" for me. Dating advice, especially. He'd told me to date someone until I find something about them that I cannot live with, then move on. When I find a man who has shown me nothing I cannot live with, then I marry him.

That advice was not true for me. Stephen used to do a lot of things I would not have accepted now. But that's how things are. We changed. He is a much better person now, and I am a much more careful, discriminating person.

Anyway, my grandpa would also give me advice about what to wear. Mostly just not to wear pajama pants. He'd always get on my case and say I'd never find a guy wearing those. Not in a mean way, he was just trying to help me out.

Low and behold, my pajamas are what attracted Stephen to me. He likes me being comfortable. It's strange, but good, because I like being comfortable too!

Anyway, then my life started making a turn for the worst. Very early in 2012, I first began cutting. I think it was because of something Stephen did, or a combination of something he did and me just failing my life. I'd lost my job to a second panic attack months earlier. My grades were tanking. I was very worried about my life and very angry that I wasn't doing better.

So I took some thinning shears and raked them accross the outside of my forearm. I soon realized I didn't have enough money to stay in school (in hindsight, I must have just not accepted my financial aid), so I began the process of withdrawing and moving.

It was then that I finally asked for a blessing from my grandpa. It was so embarrassing, and I felt very guilty for putting my problems in his life, but he was more than happy to help. We met on a highway exit near Lagoon theme park. The skies were gray, it was somewhat cold, and it had been raining heavily.

He met me in the mitsubishi outlander my parents had loaned me. He was pretty excited to help me out. He asked: "What can I do for ya?" I told him I just needed a blessing from him. Naturally, he inquired as to what the problem was. I simply pulled back my sleeve and showed him the healing wounds. A look of disappointment or sadness (maybe both) crossed his face, and he became solemn. That's when I got one of the most meaningful blessings in my life.

A few months later, we were together again for the baptism of my niece. I'd just been told by Stephen that he had some level of misconduct with his ex while I was at work. I later learned that this wasn't even close to the whole story, but even just that moderate level of misconduct he admitted to was enough to wreck me for a few days. I was so miserable and sellf-conscious.

By then, it seems nearly everyone had heard. My two cousins were telling me to leave him. They were making some fun of the fact that I was still with him, but I knew to some level they were serious and concerned. My grandpa heard. As I was leaving to go be with Stephen (my favorite thing to do at that point in my life), my grandpa stopped me and asked a slew of questions about the situation and about Stephen. He basically told me to kick his ass to the curb.

I wasn't strong enough to do that at the time, but I appreciated his concern. Luckily, he was also confused as to who I was talking about because he was happy to see Stephen the next time they saw eachother. I think everyone in that family was happy that I was so happy.

And I really, really was.

Anyway, my grandpa was always there for me. He even took me on a "date" to see the play Brigadoon. It was awesome. Of course I felt awkward at the time because I was deeply shy anyway and what do I have in common with someone 40+ years older than me? Well, we had my grandma in common. She had been dead for a few years, I think. He just shared his feelings about how he basically is excited to see her and how eternal families are great and life after death.

Pretty interesting stuff.

I'm sure I got his stubbornness, and I'm sure I've gotten his distrust of the medical field. Along with 25% of his genes. He's just a fun person. I'll really miss him, but he's lived a long life and he has a great family here and on the other side.