Grandpa

Today is Memorial Day and although I miss my grandfather everyday special holidays for servicemen (and women) make losing him more poignant. My grandpa was not always an easy man to love. He was gruff, rude and blunt. He worked hard and lost a lot in his life. He was the last of the Gardner men and seen his wife Madeline die after a long hard illness. He had raised her children as his own having been kept away from his only biological daughter (my mom.) He was a Navy man who retired with full honors, went back to college, rejoined the work force and earned a second full retirement. He was deaf (when he chose to be), diabetic (but a sugar hound), had COPD (but snuck a smoke every chance he got) and lived for his nightly beer and shot (Crown Royal in a juice glass.) He didn't want to live to be as old as he was and denied the joys of living. But he kept on long after he wanted to for my mother and I.

In 1993 I found out he existed and wrote him a letter, the letter in return was tear stained. He not only wanted to know me he loved me. For a few brief years I centered his world, I was his little girl. Then before I left for college I introduced him to his daughter. I ceased to be his focused and although I had moments of regret (based in selfisness) I knew this was what he wanted. When his health declined and my mom's mental health needs increased she moved in. I'm convinced this extended his life. For almost ten years she drove him crazy and made him laugh.

In October of 2005 his health declined to the point that hospice was called. Everyone but my mom knew what this meant. She called me to let me know he was having a worse than usual night so I came over. I asked for a moment alone with him. He was sedated on morpine and clodaphine. I told him I knew I had never made him proud and that seemed to agitate him, so I said I was sorry. I told him I loved him and just wanted to make him happy and proud of me. I told him that I knew he was holding on for me and my mom but that he didn't have to keep on for us. I knew he was tired and that if he wanted to go to his brothers and Madeline, we'd be sad but we would understand. I kissed him and held his hand. Later on that night I told my mom to get some rest that I would watch over him. I think I fell asleep for a minute or 2...and he was gone. The funeral home came and got him and when they tied a sheet over his face I panicked. He was a hero, a figher, my grandpa...they seemed to understand and retied it in a more respectful position.

A week later he was buried with full honors. 21 gun salute, taps, and the flag ceremony. I don't remember much of it. Now I look at my son, who bears my grandpas name and I wonder how will I ever tell him how wonderful his great-grandpa was. I would give ANYTHING. Anything, 10 years of my life, for 1 hour with him now...to be able to put my son in his arms to say "Look at the woman I am now" to tell him I love him one more time.

I love you Grandpa, I hope you can hear me...
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