My Grandpa, My Hero

Growing up, I had two main men in my life: my dad and my grandpa. My grandpa was there from the moment I was born. He was one of the first people to hold me and he was there almost every day afterward. There were times when I spent more time at my grandparents house than at my own home. We did so many things together. It was my grandfather who taught me how to fish, to love being outside. I went camping with him, my grandmother and my parents countless times. He taught me about horses and how to ride one. There were many times as a child that we went riding together with me sitting in front of him on the saddle. He gave me my love for horses.

Together we must have put together at least a hundred puzzles, if not more, seeing who could put together the most pieces. Together we planted blackberries and raspberries, eagerly awaiting their fruit. Once, when we saw the Energizer Bunny balloon setting down in a clearing not far from my grandparent's house, we ran to go see it and got to touch it. He took me on bike rides and drove me to the park. He joked and could always make me laugh. We played solitaire together and a hundred other games. He was my best friend. He saw me at my best and at my worst.

As the years went by, though, his health declined and our fishing trips, camping trips and horseback rides became less frequent and finally stopped. But we still put together puzzles, we still played games. After I graduated from high school, I went away to college which meant I saw my grandparents only when I happened to be home for the weekend or for the holidays.

However, this past fall, after I left college and came back home, I was able to spend several weeks with them, helping my grandmother around the house, doing little things, fixing meals, etc. Those days are precious to me now.

When I got my job at Portraits by LaDonna, my time with them became more limited as for the first time, I was working a full time job. When we decided to move back into town so that we could live with my grandparents and help take care of them, it seemed like things were going to hopefully get better. Grandpa's health wasn't good at all and we thought that if we were there with them, we could help him get better. But then just this past week, he took a fall and hit his head. When I got my mom's text, I thought the worst, but he was okay and that day we moved him into an assisted living place. We figured that would be a good place for him to be until all the paperwork for the new house was done and we could move him there. I hadn't seen my grandparents for several weeks prior to this. A combination of work and packing had left little time for anything else, not to mention the fact that I was sure that we were going to be living in the same house fairly soon and would have plenty of time together.

I had the opportunity though this past Saturday to run by the place he was staying and spend some time with both him and my grandmother. One of my aunt's also decided to have a get together the next day, Sunday. Unfortunately, I was only able to stay for a little over an hour and a half since I was supposed to be traveling for work later that day. I told my grandpa goodbye and said I would see him later, probably that next weekend. I had no idea that would be the last time I saw my grandfather alive.

I got a call from my parents yesterday morning, a little after six, and I immediately knew something was wrong because my parents never called me that early.  I think somehow, I knew what they were going to tell me when I picked up my phone.  But I was still stunned when my mom told me that my grandpa had died in the middle of the night. All I could do was collapse on the ground and sob. It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. It was an absolute living nightmare, made worse because I was in Carlsbad for work while the rest of my family was in Albuquerque. Fortunately my parents were able to find a flight going from Carlsbad to Albuquerque later that morning and I was able to catch it.

The rest of that day passed by in a blur. The only family members I had ever lost were my great-grandparents on my mother's side of the family and since I never really knew them, I can't say that I ever felt much of a sense of loss when they died. But this was my grandpa.  He was supposed to move in with us.  He was the one who understood me, understood how hard this move was for me and helped make it better.  He had promised that he was going to get better and that he was going to live with us in our new house. It all seemed so impossible, especially since he had really seemed to be doing better.

I feel the guilt that I didn't spend more time with him these last several weeks weighing on me. And all the if only I'd done this statements keep running through my head. If only I'd spent more time with him, if only I hadn't been traveling, if only I hadn't been so reluctant about moving...would that have changed anything? I know it's going to take a long time to heal, but the one comfort I have is that he did become a Christian before he died. And I also know that he's no longer suffering, there's no more pain.I do know that I will see him again someday and he'll be completely healthy, but that doesn't really make it any easier.

I love you, grandpa, and I hope that now that you're in heaven, you're riding horses again.

This post was originally published on Thursday, March 17, 2011.