Simply My Life 2

I am stalling. I have known since I finished the first chapter what comes next in this story. I cannot tell any more of my life without this chapter. So much of who I am, who I became, was influenced by the events in this part of my life. And I do not want to write it. It will open up a part of my heart that, even 30 years later, I can't handle emotionally. It involves the single most devastating loss I have ever experienced. But as I said, I can't tell any more of my story without it. I have tried to come up with a way to tell other things first, and I probably could fill up some pages with fluffy good memories. I could entertain you with my childhood. But those aren't the things that have shaped my story.

When I was seven years old, my Grandpa John was dying. He had bone cancer, and it was so hard on my mom. I remember them taking care of him, and I remember not really understanding at that point what death really was. When he passed away, it was sad. I was young, so it was simply sad. I am not by any means saying I didn't love my Grandpa John. I did. I handled it alright, because I did not understand death. I learned from his passing what death meant.

Now, the interesting part in all of this is that the night he died, I had a dream. I dreamed that the phone rang, and I walked downstairs slowly and listened to my Dad on the phone with my Mom. She was calling to tell him that my Grandpa had passed. And he said, "That's too bad." And I was woken up by the phone ringing. And I walked downstairs and heard my Dad say, "That's too bad." This was my first experience with any sort of paranormal phenomena. You will find that I have quite a bit of that in my story. Whether you believe or not, I hope you continue to read this tale I have to tell.

The following autumn, I was at home with my mom. I can't tell you what I was doing. I can't remember anything before what happened next. What I can tell you is that my Mom got a phone call that my Grandpa Al (who you will hear all about, and will continue to be a part of my story) had been out hunting and was on his way to the hospital. They thought it was a heart attack. My mom took me to my aunt's house so she could go to the hospital. And there, we waited. I was hysterical, because I now knew what death was. And I didn't want to lose him.

My Grandpa Al was my step-grandpa. I was his favorite, I was the baby. I would venture to say the my Mother was his favorite step-child, so I had a little bit of an inside track. I spent a lot of time with my Mom's parents while my mom worked. Grandpa Al was my favorite person on Earth. I loved him so much. I see this kind of love in my children, in the way they love their Papa. Man, my Grandpa would have really enjoyed Papa. They would have gotten along like white on rice.

The house they lived in had a small farm next to it. They had beagles, kennels full. They barked and howled all the time. It was a constant background sound there. It never bothered me in the least. They also had horses. Grandpa and I would go out all the time to pet the horses. The first time I ever rode a horse was at that farm. There was another time that we went to see another friend of Grandpa's, and I also rode there. A gray horse. And the last time I was with him, we went to visit my "Uncle" Mike. He wasn't home, but he had a foal tethered to his mailbox. I have no idea why. I literally never found out. But this adorable little chestnut with a fat white blaze on his face was tethered to this mailbox in the country, and we petted him for a very long time.

When I was with my grandparents, we spent a lot of time at Uncle Mike's. He had teenage sons who thought I was extremely entertaining. One winter, I imagine it was probably the year I was seven, his sons tied a sled to their bumper and drug me around behind their car. It was the most fun I ever remember having in the snow. I remember watching the Charlie Brown special about The Great Pumpkin there, as well as A Charlie Brown Christmas. I loved Uncle Mike's farm.

We used to drive around in the country, and we used to laugh. I remember gravel roads, and talking about "the fuzz." That's what he called the police. It makes me smile just to think of. He had a little beige truck, and it is still so funny to me because he was a big guy. He also had a 1981, I believe it was, orange Camaro with white racing stripes, T-top. Gorgeous car, my dream car, for obvious reasons. Also the reason orange is my favorite color. My Grandpa was a funny, funny guy. He was, and I say this with love, a complete redneck. He was also the reason I was destined to be a complete hillbilly myself.

He was also pretty unhealthy. He smoked, he drank Old Milwaukee, and after dinner he would drink about a gallon of milk every night. He worked in a factory, and had various pieces of fingers or thumbs missing. The tip here, half there, most of one gone. His hands were very beaten and worn. They fascinated me, but never scared me. They were worn and disfigured, but I never saw him struggle with anything he did. He was beautiful in my eyes.

The day after we saw the baby horse, my parents came to get me. I had a ball game to get to. I remember being outside in the yard waiting for them. When they arrived I was in a hurry to get to my game. Every time that I left their house I would go and give him a hug and kiss, and tell him I loved him. This day, I was in a hurry and I didn't do it. It was the last time I saw him. I never saw my Grandpa alive again, and I had rushed off without a hug. Without telling him I loved him.

I know he knew. Of course he knew. Everyone knew. So as I sat at my aunts house waiting with my family, they all tried to keep me calm. They tried to keep me positive. I started to calm down some. And then the phone rang. My uncle answered it, and after a brief time said "That's too bad." And I lost my mind. If I never hear those words again, I would be totally okay with it. Those words changed my life forever. My Grandpa Al was dead, and I hadn't told him that I loved him. And I never could again. The guilt that came with that was, and some days still is, unbearable to me. To this day, I tell people I love them all the time. For all the years my Gramma lived, I almost never made the mistake of not telling her. I truly was terrified that if I forgot she would die. I know I am not really as powerful as all that, and that it was an irrational fear. But I wasn't going to take chances. Luckily, she lived a very long time and I saw her right before she passed. I was able to say my goodbyes.

He was 59. So young. He had heart disease and never knew. It just stopped. They couldn't bring him back. In the blink of an eye, he was just...gone. His funeral was horrible. I could not compose myself. I couldn't go up to the casket after to say goodbye. I sat in the very back, and I cried. And cried. Remembering all of this, I am crying now. Big crying. I feel like I am eight and my world is over again. Rarely do I let myself go to this place. This grief, this pain, this loss changed me forever.

I still go home to visit his grave. I will drive the hour to my hometown just to go there. I will still make sure that I drive past the Christmas tree up on the old National Manufacturing building every year, because I remember driving past it with him. Now, my Gramma is there with him. It brings me comfort that they have been reunited. I look forward to someday being with them again. Not that I want to die, I just know that I will see them again. I will be able to talk to my Grandpa about my kids. Man, he would have gotten the biggest kick out of my boys. They have so many qualities that are right up Grandpa Al's alley. This is just one more aspect of pain for me. I wish he could have met them. In life, not is spirit. I know he has seen them, I know he has been around. I haven't seen him in many years, but I have felt his presence. But I would give anything for him to have been here to hold them.

I know more stories about him will follow. I know I didn't get the memories all out. Some of the pain, but not all of it. I will never let all of it out. I couldn't recover from it if I did. I wish everyone the depth of love that was between us, and I wish everyone a long lifetime of memories with the people that matter the most. I wasn't able to have that, but I hope that you do. This one moment scarred me, and shattered me. This is the single most painful moment and memory of my life, but I had to share it in order to tell the rest of the story.