July 11, 2006

• In Loving Memory of William Spady, My Grandfather

  Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
  Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
  Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
  I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
                                        [Edna St. Vincent Millay]

  
  

  
  

  Last night, thirty minutes before the end of my late-night shift at the group home, I received the news of my grandpa's passing. It just makes me think: here was a man I've known my entire life, and now he's gone. I will never see him again in this lifetime. I went to visit my mum last night after work, and she cried a little when I hugged her, and said, "My dad is gone." And then I cried a little with her and said, "And my grandpa's gone." I don't enjoy crying and I don't necessarily enjoy admitting to it, but I don't much care; I think the least my grandpa deserves is a little emotion at his passing. In fact, he deserves a lot more.

  
  

  
  

  I'd like to think I learned a lot from my grandpa. I learned how to be and how not to be. I learned that you can spend the majority of a lifetime affected by circumstance, and in some ways, taking it out on those you love most. I also learned that it's never too late to turn yourself around and make the most of things, of relationships, of opportunities. I learned to be generous. I learned to love Canada Dry Ginger Ale and Digestive Cookies...and how to make homemade Chicken Noodle Soup.

  
  

  
  

  One more thing I want to say. I knew he was very sick, and I had planned on going to visit him today. I had one last chance to talk with him, take my picture with him, and hold his hand. But too little too late. Take the time today to spend time with those you love, because you never know when it will be too little too late.

  
  

  I love you, grandpa. And you will be missed.

  • 1:40 pm
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