Always shifting, changing,Metamorphosis: the process of transformation from an immature form to an adult form in two or more distinct stages. By definition that is, a painful process if you ask me, yet it happens and it happened to me throughout this year. I have grown so much, I have changed, the confusion of feeling like one's soul is out of one's body or one's body is out of one's soul, overwhelming. The finishing point, that made me re-think my life? The death of my Grandpa, before the 12 of March 2018 I have never experience relative's death. In my head I had the silly notion of my grandparents being forever immortal, untouchable, of me visiting them every summer telling them about my adventures, I guess they are in my memory. There is so much lessons that my grandpa though me, so much I wanted to thank him for, so much I wanted to tell him about. Yet he was gone in a flash, leaving his wife, his children and his grandchildren.
That night you couldn't sleep it was past 12 but your brain couldn't turn itself off, one of your split-second thoughts was;"he's dead, grandpa is gone."
You knew he wasn't well after the operation, you fall back into the abyss of sleep. Waking up your uncle asks you if you're going home to Poland.
The question being so irrational that you dismiss it without asking why.
Then he tells you: Your grandpa died last night.
At first you cry, you cry so hard that the reality becomes a blur of regret and emotion.
You go to University pretend like everything is fine, keep it all in, don't want people to see you cry.
Leave for the airport, you are nervous, the flight, the car, just going through motions, you’re in a church praying, you see his body unmoving in the coffin.
Back home, everyone is quiet, just enough small talk to keep the ghosts from coming, no one is drinking.Upstairs, his bedroom lies empty, granny said she'll sleep there tonight, you hope he won't haunt her.
The morning ,black clothes, wear makeup, so, no one sees your puffy eyes, you find the poems you wrote for him a while back, show your aunt, change them a bit, make them 'funeral ready'.
The drive, funeral, Your aunt reads them while she sobs, Placed them into the coffin in grandpa’s hand.You want to laugh at the priest, the nun took out too much holy-bread, so, he shoves it into his mouth, while the organist plays, downs it with some water/wine,
You're outside, they have taken the coffin, you hold your grandmothers hand, both of you feel weak, you need someone else, your mother is on the other side helping, she seems to take it all into her stride, she never was fond of grandpa,
At the burial site, you're holding a rose, There’s an accordion playing, its grandpa's tune, "Szla dzieweczka do laseczka"
You almost lost your grip on reality,
You're back, the funeral is over you go and throw the rose into his grave, a seldom goodbye, you're lacking closures as much as anyone here, regret not coming over in January, why didn't you?
The restaurant, you only know a few people ,they're all talking,
You see your godchild Alek, decide to keep yourself busy with him, you feed him, but then he's off playing with the other kids, you hold your granny's hand under the table for a while.
Try to make conversation, it’s all over, you met some new family members. Going back to his grave with granny and her sisters, they talk, there's some lads who are your cousins, you make small talk, your chest feels heavy, keep it in Back into the car, then home.
Your alone in the kitchen, you can almost see him sitting on the stool smoking by the old stove that's non-existent now,your tears are dry, your throat hurts Then you get mad, so so mad. How dare he leave?
How dare he go without saying goodbye?How dare he not be there for me when I have important news to tell him?How dare he not stay and see my future?
You make it personal as if he wanted to leave and let you suffer, not realising that cancer is a serious illness, he was in so much suffering after all of the chemotherapy and radiotherapy.
This is not about you, it’s about him, about his life, about him being a generous human being. About him telling you stories, making you laugh, listening to your troubles, advertising you, putting you first, unconditionally loving you no matter the upsetting things you have said to one another in the past.
You hug your granny in the hallway and say your goodbyes,the house will be so quiet and lonely,your uncle is telling you, you should stay (joking)By the time you reach the airport you decided,going out of the car you hug your uncle and say you can't go. He leaves you stay, your aunt sheds a smile, it has been a while since she did that at anything other than Alek.
You drive back to your Grandparents knowing that now you only have one, it stings.Acceptance: You had to sleep in his room, thinking it would be hard, you looked through his closet, put one of his farming jumpers on out of sentiment,(it smells of him of burnt wood, cigarettes his cologne and air)then cried yourself to sleep.Night after night for two weeks.
You didn't want other relatives to know, so, when your aunt comes into his/your bedroom, lies on the bed and cries.You are numb.Unable to comfort her, or yourself for that matter.
You tell her it will be better with time, because time heals all wounds.Yet she cries, its not the same without him,There’s no one to throw a joke no one to give you something to do.
Just his/your room and the closet filled with his life. You can't sleep, you wonder why?
Old memories fill your head, the porcelain duck that could lay eggs, the horse and the wood engraving, him teaching you how to draw, showing you different tricks, waking you up at 4 am to go ploughing, driving the tractor while you sat on his lap, tickling you until you couldn't breathe, carrying buckets of feed for the pigs, milking cows, showing you his not-so-priceless coin collection, buying you ice-cream always asking for his change, life in itself is so complex.Your granny looks awfully sad, she tells you that it might be her time soon, you get upset, tell her she can't leave, she needs to wait for great-grandchildren, not from your side but you have sibling.
And you know that she will be alright when you leave.
This is a poem I wrote after my grandad pasted away,
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