Grandpa

I found out early this morning that my paternal grandfather had passed away. He was 89 years old.

It wasn't shocking since he had been sick for awhile (he was in a persistent vegetative state for about five years or so) and we had an inkling last year that his time was near. Even knowing all of that, I was still surprised to see my youngest brother's email, sent at midnight, breaking the bad news because he didn't want to call and wake anyone up. (I know, what a sweetheart.)

At about 6:15am, I broke down and spent a good five minutes on the bathroom floor crying. I've never had anyone in my immediate family die before. Sure, I've had friends and acquaintances pass; but never family - I have my siblings, my parents and up until yesterday I had both sets of grandparents. I continued to get ready for work and contemplated staying home. I thought about the meetings I'd miss at work and how I would likely spend the day miserable and crying my eyes out. I then thought of my grandpa and how he fought for so long and how we, his family, all held on to hope for so long. How now my aunts and grandmother would have their lives back in sense, as they spent the last five years caring for him at home. I decided to go to work and it helped keep my mind off things. But at the end of the day, the moment I walked through my front door, I cried.

 

Grandma, Grandpa and Jenny at age 2 in Taipei, Taiwan. 

The above picture is about 28 years old. I remember my grandfather fondly... how he and my grandmother would visit every year for a few months when we were growing up. Sometimes they'd come together, sometimes they'd alternate their visits - one grandparent at a time. They both knew how much I loved anything to do with airplanes (just like my dad) and would make sure I got those plastic pilot wings or even just packets of those airplane peanuts (before peanut allergies were an issue). Sometimes those peanuts would be salted and if I was lucky, they'd be honey roasted. Yum!

When my brother Frankie and I were little, we were horrible eaters. We would drag out breakfast forever. I don't understand why we did - it goes against human nature but we did. My mom would start getting angry and would be ready to holler at us. In swooped grandpa and what did he do? He BRIBED us! He offered us each a quarter to finish our breakfast and get off to school. We weren't stupid, we took the deal and gobbled down our breakfasts and we were 25 cents richer.

I have so many wonderful memories of grandpa, but it's so hard to grasp that I'll never see him again and all I now have are pictures and memories.

Grandpa, rest in peace. We love you.