Thursday, August 04, 2005
Missing My Grandparents
It hit me hard this morning.
I went to address an envelope to my aunt and uncle and pulled open my address book. The first entry at the top of the page was that of my grandparents. Or, really, it was of my grandfather. I must have bought this address book after my grandma died. Already, pieces of the past fading away as if they never existed. The next address book I buy (and indeed, I need a new one, this one is getting ratty and stained, worn and torn) will not have any need to include the address at 6520 (it used to be 6510) Spruce. I don’t know why I kept it in my address book, anyhow. Like the address of my parents, I have it memorized, but I guess I always felt the need to keep it in case TDO needed to get in touch with my family or something.
Why does it feel so damned much like I have no family anymore?
Though I shouldn’t say that. My uncle has been trying to send email forwards more regularly. His wife, my aunt Cheri, called yesterday. I know they care, but, God. I feel so alone, so abandoned.
They’ve always had the same phone number. Always, since moving into their house. Forever. My grandparents number was the first I’d always call when I was scared, alone, worried, angry, joyous, excited… any big news went their way first without fail. If I needed to know how to fix a clogged toilet, I called my grandpa. When I wanted ideas for Halloween costumes, I’d call my grandmother. It seems impossible to think I can’t just pick up and call to chat with them. Two voices, forever silenced. Two minds with so much wisdom and knowledge, lost. It hurts so much I can barely stand it, and while I know that this overwhelming hurt will pass, right now it’s, well, overwhelming.
After my grandmother died, I used to call… to hear the answering machine. To hear her voice. Just a few days after she died, the answering machine mysteriously “broke”. I think my grandfather broke it on purpose. He couldn’t stand hearing her voice but not having her there. I understand why he did it, but God. He took something from me. It was a way for me to hold on, a way for me to hear her even if I couldn’t talk to her and get a response. I wish I could call and hear their voices. I’d give almost anything right now for that. I could call the house. There’s still an answering machine, but it just is an automated voice that says something gay like, “We’re sorry, no one is available to take your call.” I want to hear _them_ - not a crappy electronic voice.
Such is life. I dealt with this after my grandmother passed, too. I know it gets easier. The urge to pick up the phone and call goes away. The times I will catch myself mid-dial before I remember will fade. I wish… I wish I had called my grandfather more before he died. I feel like such an ass. The last I had talked to him was Father’s Day. I let him down. I let them both down. And now I can never make up for it, never say I’m sorry, never say Thank You, never tell them how much I love and need them.
Do me a favor. If you have grandparents, tell them you love them today. If you have parents around, tell them how much they mean. God forbid, you may never get another chance.
Talisman at 08/04/05 10:47 AM
Sweetie, no matter what I say I know that it’s not going to change the way you feel.. but I really want to tell you that you did NOT let him down. He knew you loved him .. they both did.
Not many children will think to call their “old” grandparents first when they have exciting news. Best friends top the list… then maybe mom and dad… then if “forced” to, begrudingly call the grandparents.
Frankly, if you ask me.. you were one hell of a granddaughter.
Bri at 08/04/05 11:41 AM
When my Grandpa passed away, his voice stayed on the answering machine for months. I too would call and listen to it, and find comfort in hearing him speak… Damn, I still miss him terribly too.. Just as with my Mother.. But with Mom I think I’m almost numb to that pain now..
Krush at 08/04/05 08:58 PM
*hugs* That’s really all I can offer. Neither of my grandparents had an answering machine, so I didn’t have that when they passed on. Although, I must admit this house didn’t feel like home until Mum Mum and Pappy’s pictures were placed around. I understand how you feel. Sending love your way.
James at 08/07/05 09:16 PM
I come across this blog as we buried my mother in law today.
I have seen the same emotions you speak of in my wifes eyes today. I wish you well.