August 6, 2006 — age seventeen
(part of a look at the past)

It has been two years since my granny passed away–well, at 10:55am, it will be.

I miss her. I’ve been thinking about her, as well as my pawpaw, more often than usual lately. Growing up, they were such a big influence on my life. They were the only reason I ever wanted to fall in love–their love made me believe. As I got older and thought more about my future, I’d always assumed they’d be in it. I could picture them both sitting in the front at my wedding. I could see Granny wanting to be in the hospital room as I had my first child. I could see Pawpaw making me sit on his lap, even if I were thirty, just to see how I was doing.

Recently, I’ve been thinking of how I will never have any of that. Why is it that when I was younger, I never had a doubt in my mind? Sometimes, I find myself thinking of Granny more often than Pawpaw. It’s not that I miss her more–I just have a harder time believing that Pawpaw isn’t alive. Granny’s death was expected–well, as expected as it could be. She had been diagnosed with lung cancer a few months before, and the doctor told us there was nothing he could do any longer. Pawpaw’s death was less expected. He had come for a visit, and he thought he had the flu. It turns out that it was most likely something else because when he said he needed to go to the hospital because he could barely breathe, he never came home.

I remember that night too often. It was late, and I remember being on my parent’s computer in the living room. Pawpaw was sitting in the recliner behind me, and he was having trouble breathing. After a bit, Dad offered to take him to the hospital, and he didn’t object like he normally would. By this point, he couldn’t even walk on his own without falling short of breath, so Dad and David (my cousin) had to help him to the car. Before leaving, I said, “Feel better… I’ll see you later” and Pawpaw said, “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Mom and David drove him to the hospital. I remember later, Mom told me that she had never driven so fast in her life. I heard the phone ring several times, and when Dad said he had to go to the hospital, I became worried. Nobody was telling me anything, and when I later saw the headlights of Mom’s car in the driveway, I was relieved. That relief soon turned, as I became worried once again when Mom walked into the house crying. I met her at the door, and I continued to ask what was wrong. She kept shaking her head, finally muttering, “he didn’t make it.” My mind couldn’t even comprehend the words she had spoken. He was fine, I believed. They were just playing some cruel joke on me. How could he be dead? It was just the flu.

Of course, I was wrong. I yelled at Mom, saying that she was lying, and David walked straight to my room and shut the door behind him, not able to look at me as I cried my eyes out, screaming at my mother. I remember grabbing the phone, and running to my brother’s room. I dialed Ryan’s (my boyfriend at the time) number, sobbing into the phone. He didn’t answer, so I kept calling. He never answered, and I became angry with him for that, even though it was two in the morning. I was angry that he wasn’t there when I needed him. I fell asleep soon after that.

I woke up the next morning, thinking the entire night before was just a dream. When I walked into the bathroom and saw that my face was red and puffy from crying the night before, I realized that maybe it had been reality. And it was. The next few days were a blur for me; I hardly remember them. I do remember going back to school, and trying to pretend that everything was okay. I did a good job of doing so.

I still sometimes forget that he isn’t alive. I often think, “he’s just in Florida, I’ll see him soon” even though that’s untrue. He was the strongest man I knew. I only remember him becoming angry at me once in my life. I remember him crying at my granny’s funeral, as he sat next to me with his left hand on my right knee. I remember how quiet he was after Granny passed away. His eyes seemed so very sad. I remember how he would whistle all the time (and when Eric whistles, it makes me think of him and smile). I remember hearing him laugh and thinking that everything would be okay, no matter how bad life seemed.

He was my favorite man in the world. I miss him…