I’m not usually one to post things like this, but as I lie in my bed at 1:22 AM, the grief has really hit me hard. January 8, 2014 is a day that will forever haunt me. My grandpa passed away that day, and I’ve never really been the same. When I think about it, all I can think about is how unfair it is. He never deserved that. He wasn’t even old. I’m so thankful that he passed peacefully, but I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. I’m not, nor will I ever be, okay with that. The last time I’d seen him was Thanksgiving of 2013. The last thing he knew was that I wanted to be a pediatrician. He didn’t even get to see me graduate high school, change my career path, or start college... I’m pouring out my feelings because I feel like this is the best place to do it. I don’t really think that the pain will ever ease at this point. It’s been two very long years, and I can’t even imagine what it’ll feel like a few years down the road. I miss him so much, and there’s nothing that I can even do about it. Do you know how much that sucks? I’m sure that some of you do, and I’m sorry that you have to endure this pain also. I’d never wish this upon my worst enemy. He was one of my closest friends. Even though he gave me crap all the time, I could always count on him to make me laugh and take me to breakfast on Sunday mornings (even though he choked me with his cigar smoke in the truck on the way). When we moved to Tennessee, he came and visited with my grandma. He loved it so much that he even wanted to move out here. I have all of these “what ifs” in my brain. What if they’d moved here earlier? What if he’d been just a little healthier and active? What if I’d seen him that night? Would I have been able to do anything? God, I just hurt for me and for my family. My grandma more than anyone. She found him the next morning and she didn’t know what to do other than call my dad, because he was cold and not breathing. I’ve never been more devastated in my entire life. To hear that my best friend and my rock had just died? What was I supposed to do? Here I am, two years later, and I still have no idea what to do. Sometimes, I just look at his picture and I cry. I really don’t know how else to handle it. But, I guess I’m doing my best. I miss you, Grandpa. I miss you every day. I hope you’re watching over me and you’re watching me write this post, comforting me from Heaven. I hope that you can see how much I miss you, and I hope that I’ve made you proud.
