Grandpa. Or the name I have used my entire life, Pop. To sum up one word to describe exactly who Pop was is impossible. He was my best friend. Always a phone call or drive away. A very selfless person. He left a little bit of him in all of my family members, including me. I am not one to put out my entire life story, but I knew it was time to write about a guy I have looked up to my entire life.
Grief is a funny emotion. Everybody goes through it at some point in their life, but nobody goes through it the exact same. I had a rough year this past year. Life likes throwing curve balls. Some really happy, and others heart wrenching. I was lucky and got 19 years before I lost somebody I was close to. I’ve been told for years, “Everybody dies. It’s just a fact of life. We all die at some point.” But I never realized it until it was a reality. Life is not forever. The people we love most are not going to be here our entire life.
I grew up going to Grandma and Pop’s. It was never a question where we were going. And that didn’t stop when I started high school and started to drive. The majority of my time was spent over at their house. Whether sitting at the kitchen table, drowning my oatmeal in milk, watching Grandma cook, to wandering around the massive house wondering where Pop went, to playing with those green machines in the driveway. The house was like a time machine full of memories. Nothing really changed except for our pictures on the wall showing how much older all of us have gotten. The house got to see six children and twelve grandchildren running around, growing up in a blink of an eye.
Here’s the thing with growing up going to Grandma and Pop’s all the time, you learn that they are always going to take your side even when you are wrong and out of line. I would use this best to my advantage. Of course Mom was going to argue with Pop on whether or not I should have a can of soda with breakfast, but she wasn’t going to win! He would go get milk at the Farmer’s Market and would end up coming home with a Kit-Kat bar. I always knew I had a support system behind me, even when I was being a bit overdramatic (Me? Overdramatic?).
As the years have dragged on and each of us gotten older, I started spending more time at Grandma and Pop’s. My mom would help get Grandma ready in the mornings, I would tag along to visit, and eat food because let’s face it, the pantry at a grandparents house is never empty. I remember spending a whole afternoon trying to explain “How I Met Your Mother” to Pop, and him at the end just nodding and agreeing with everything I said to get me to stop talking. It became a routine to visit and talk his ear off.
Pop was more than just Pop. His entire life, well 60 years of it, was dedicated to my grandmother. He raised five boys and one girl with her. He was the calm in the family amongst a storm full of crazy. Pop loved Grandma so deeply. This is the same man that refused to tell her he hated Red Hots on those Easter bunny shaped cookies, because he loved her so much. It’s a love you would only see a few times in your life. A love I wish and hope to have one day.
Goodbyes are nobody’s favorite. Whether leaving for school, or saying goodbye to them for a long time, goodbyes never get easier. The older you get, the more you end up saying goodbye. I got so use to seeing a smiling face as I walked in the back door. I got use to spending so much time over at Pop’s, it is hard for me to go back. It was never the house that made it feel like home, but rather it was the people who made a life in that house.
I am not writing this to tell the world just how amazing he was. Anybody who was near him knew just how special he was to each of us. I am writing and telling the world about a guy who I am going to miss for the rest of my life. A guy who gave me everything. I am who I am because of him and my grandma. All my weird quirks and all. Losing somebody is a painful thing and it can be a selfish thing. I still am trying to live in a world without a person I have always needed and still need.
So, if I had one more day, just one more day with Pop I would say I’m glad I got those 20 years. I’m glad you got to see me grow up; watch me learn how to walk, see me learn how to drive (and get told I ran into a tree), see me in all my homecoming and prom dresses, watch me walk into the house with a cap and gown after I graduated high school, say goodbye before I left for the University of Kentucky. There is no question that you were my biggest fan. Even when I felt like the world was against me, you were always there. I thought writing this would be a lot easier, but I’ve realized that I can’t, this one time, put into words just exactly how much you mean to me. I miss you. I miss seeing you every chance I got when I was home, and I miss talking to you. Thank you for being the best part of my existence.
I’ll be good and see you when I see you. Love you always, Alli.