We Miss You, Grandpa

Today is the one-year anniversary of Grandpa Taylor's passing away. I honestly remember the day well. I was with my mom at 2433 because I had the day off of school. I remember sitting there on the ground, after he'd gone, rubbing his empty body. I was tearing because I knew, despite Mom's and Brent's hope, that he was gone, but I could feel him still lingering in the room, which didn't surprise me.

I remember Brent rushing in frenziedly, trying to resuscitate Grandpa, but all the while I knew it wouldn't work--he was gone and, frankly, there was no reason he should come back. He'd definitely fulfilled his life--97 years! I remember thinking that we are the only ones hurting now and that, good, he finally got some relief from that awful chest pain he'd been feeling previously.

The hardest part of that day was not seeing my grandpa die, it was seeing the pain in my mother's and uncles' eyes and remembering how, just a few weeks before, he'd persisted in asking my mom whether or not I was in pain, being in the hospital. Even though I was lucky enough not to have had much pain, it really affected me that he'd be so concerned, that he'd care enough to ask again and again. This was the memory that sprang tears from me continually throughout the day of his burial.

The poignancy is gone now, however, except for these few and far-between moments when I stop to remember.

Grandpa's most likely chuckling to himself this very minute, laughing at some joke he heard four and a half years ago. :)