saying goodbye

Last week I said goodbye to a friend.  He was more than a friend, though, he was family.  Our families adopted each other.  The Queen and I had him in our wedding, introducing him as my adopted grandpa…

It has taken me some time to find the words I wanted to share.  So what follows may be a jumbled mess and while I know that is okay, for moments such as these I wish I could come up with the “right” words and I wish I could come up with them faster.  I sat silently and listened as others shared stories about this amazing man.  Maybe what follows is what I would have said if I’d had these words faster, if I’d been braver.  I doubt it, though.  I couldn’t even type them without spilling tears.  There’s no way I could speak them out loud.

…..

He called me Matt the Cat.  I’m not sure there was more to it than he liked the way it sounded.  I never asked him.  And now it is too late.

We adopted him, in our fashion, and made him part of our adventures.  He went camping with us a couple times.  He always said it was an honor to be included.  We wouldn’t have had it any other way and wished he could have made it more often.  He was like a kid in those mountains.  His eyes full of wonder and joy.  Then again, his eyes were always full of joy. Joy was who he was, how he approached life, how he treated everyone.

He played the harmonica.  He could make it sing.  He could make it whistle like a train picking up speed and getting closer and closer.  The Little Prince used to love that.

He was good with the two older princes.  Patient.  Attentive.  He wanted to hear their stories and watch them run.  The newest prince hadn’t met him.  And now it is too late.

As the Queen and I began our winter pilgrimages to the snow with our littles in tow, we would stop at his house on our way to the mountains and share stories and pictures, stretch our legs, visit.  We always felt bad invading his home with our chaos.  I’m certain he didn’t mind.  I wish we could have stopped more often than we did.  I wish we could have stayed longer each time too.  You could hear it in his voice, that buzzing excitement, each time we knocked on his door.  You could see it in his eyes, sparkling with that joy he exuded.  And now we’ve made our last stop.  It hurts to say that.

I’ll miss him.  I’ll miss his joy.

one last goodbye

I couldn’t believe he was gone.

TV and movies had lied to me.  These things were supposed to happen slowly over time.  I was supposed to get a call that the end was near so I could race to his side, spend a few more minutes with him, share one last laugh, one last story, and tell him I loved him.  I was supposed to be able to say goodbye.

Instead, when the call came, he was already gone.  It wasn’t entirely unexpected because he had been in and out of the hospital, but it still took me by surprise.  I felt cheated.  I felt angry with the world for taking such a great man.  He was one of the reasons they called it the Greatest Generation.

I felt a sense of loss that I had never experienced before.

I was supposed to get to say goodbye, wasn’t I?

Between my school schedule and coordinating with other family members who wanted to attend, the funeral was held a couple weeks later.  When we showed up, dressed in our blacks, heads low, emotions running high, I did a great job of holding back my tears.  I pretended to be stoic, pretended like I was okay.

Before the ceremony my Uncle planned on adding a few finishing touches to my grandfather, putting on his cap and glasses and a few other things to make him seem more like the man he was, and he asked if I wanted to take that opportunity to say goodbye.

I did.  I followed him into the room with the casket.  I was supposed to say goodbye.  It’s what the films and the shows had taught me needed to be done.  TV and movies had lied to me again.

It was one of the greatest mistakes of my life.  All pretense gone, I fled the room with tears running down my cheeks.  Sobbing.  Crushed.  Broken.

I will forever be haunted by the image of my grandpa resting in his casket.  It wasn’t the man I had known, I barely recognized the figure inside, the spark was gone.  I should have stayed away.  I should have left my memories untarnished by that final image.  I should have known that I could say goodbye without having to stand there next to that empty shell.  I should have had faith that he was well aware that I loved him.

I should have known that there was no need to say goodbye because he would live on in my heart and in my thoughts.  He lives there still, and always will.

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Written for this week’s Yeah Write Writing Challenge:

And I was one of the Editor’s picks!!

where were you?

I was there when Landon Donovan hoisted the MLS Cup this afternoon…

I was there when Juninho borrowed one of the giant Galaxy flags and waved it in celebration.

I was there when David Beckham was substituted in stoppage time at the end of the second half to a prolonged standing ovation.

I was there when Beckham threw himself at the far post trying to turn in Robbie Keane’s cross.

I was there when Robbie Keane slotted home the third Galaxy goal and went into his sommersaulting routine, knowing he had just put the game out of Houston’s reach.

I was there when Landon Donovan sent his spot kick bulging out the back of the net to put the Galaxy in the lead.

I was there when Omar Gonzalez rose highest and slotted home the equalizer.

I was there while Josh Saunders came up with save after save to keep the Galaxy in the game.

I was there early, I was there late, I was there singing, and chanting, and clapping and screaming.

I am losing my voice, much to my wife’s immense humor.  Totally worth it.

….

Adieu Beckham.  You are class.  You’re heart and your quality can never be questioned.  Thank you for the six years of memories and best of luck on your next adventure.

Donovan…  if you choose to walk away, I support that 100%, you need to do what is right for you.  But you will be missed.

Omar Gonzalez, you fully deserved the MVP today.  Thank you for being the general on that back line and cleaning up cross after cross after cross.

Robbie Keane, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Is it March yet?  I’m ready for the next season to begin now!