To the Grandfather I never knew (A Tribute)

A few days ago while I was looking around at my entire family (mom’s side) at the reunion, I was thinking of what my grandpa would have thought. I could see my grandma looking at us, but I wondered what the man I never met would have thought of his family coming together 20 years after his death.

I never knew how it feels like to have a grandfather, and I often did wonder, but you can’t miss what you never had. Or can you?

I was asking grandma today about grandpa. I was curious about him all of a sudden for some odd reason. What I do know is that I was the last of his grandchildren to be born when he died. 5 grandchildren have preceded me, and 13 followed after his death. Grandma filled me in today on the details. Apparently Grandpa was a very stubborn man (I wonder who inherited that gene). He felt bad for quite some time before grandma literally had to force him to go see the doctor. He left one day from work for his doctor’s appointment and he never came back. They found out he had cancer, and although it had already spread, he wanted to give it a fighting chance. 23 hours after his first chemo dosage, he passed away. 10 days have only passed from the diagnosis day leading his death. 10 days. Ironic, isn't it? Gives you a new perspective to the word “time”.

Anyway, when they called mom and told her that grandpa was sick and it wasn’t looking too good, she booked the 1st flight she found for both her and me. I was about 8 months old. From what I know is that grandpa was a very strict father, especially with the older kids. With the grand kids, however, he had apparently mellowed out. Grandma told me that last time they had seen my mom was when she was pregnant with me, and that he was really happy to hear that my mom was coming sooner than expected. She said that he was very anxious to see me.

He only got to see me once at the hospital. Mom went into his hospital room and put me next to him on the bed. He told her that I will have my dad wrapped around my little finger.

I know it’s strange that for 20 years I never felt a connection to this man since technically I don’t know him. But today I found out so much about him and I felt such a crushing loss. And I cried for a man I never knew…excuse me…a man I never “met”. My “grandpa”. I cry for him as I wrote this for dying at the young age of 55. I cry for myself because I never got the chance to form memories of him. I cry because for the first time in my life I am feeling the heartbreak of a grandfather’s loss 20 years after his passing.

Wow, it sure hurts to lose a grandfather. But I’m glad I got to know him now. Better late than never if you ask me.

Here’s what occurred to me; looking at 19 of us cousins I’m sure that he’d love us all the same. All of us are imperfect (so thankfully very human), some more than others, but we are all family nonetheless. His flesh and blood. Then I try to imagine what he’d think of me particularly. Since I never really knew him, I wasn’t sure that my judgment would be accurate, but from what I gather taking into consideration the info I found out about him, I believe that I know exactly what he would think about me. Proud, he’d tell me.
Damn proud.