With July slowly creeping up and my own 33rd birthday on the way, I've been thinking alot about Grampa, whose birthday was less than two weeks after my own. I think about him every day, still. I've been thinking about dedicating a tattoo to him, but I'm having a hard time thinking of something that represents him and what he meant to me, what he means to me still. Either way, he wasn't really a tattoo kind of guy and it's not as though I need a reminder on my body about how important a man he was to me. I'm reminded every day, already.
Last night I had a dream I went to see him. It was as if he had moved away, and not died. He was with Ofelia, but not in Texas, somewhere south of us. I told him how much I missed him and how much I needed him in my life. He tried to make me understand that he couldn't leave, that he belonged there. I gave him a hug and told him how important he was to me. Before I knew it I was leaving, and I never had a chance to say goodbye. That's kind of how it was when he passed.
I try, but I can't honestly say I live my life without regret. I regret not spending more time with my grandparents while they were alive. I regret coming home from whatever duty station I was at and spending more time with my friends than I did with my family. Most of those people aren't even my friends anymore. My grandparents will always be my grandparents. They raised me, made me who I am, and to them I will forever be grateful...
...and I miss them.
Hug your grandma's and grampa's tight. They need you as much as you need them.
Hug your grandma's and grampa's tight. They need you as much as you need them.
No comments:
Post a Comment