I lost my granddad last Thursday. I was a pall bearer along with my 2 cousins (his “grand boys”).
My grandfather retired from the US Army as a full colonel after 40 years of service. More importantly, he was grandad. The man never turned up the volume on the TV to tune us out or put anyone off. He made everyone feel like they were the most important person in his life. He set anything and everything aside to treat you special. He defined “in sickness and in health” for the years that my grandmother couldn’t take care of herself. That alone would’ve made him a hero even if he wasn’t a full colonel.
He skateboarded, he shagged balls, he camped, hunted, fished, and did it all for us. He broke his glasses and scratched his face up more times than I can count. I even broke his nose on a pop fly he went to catch. He took the blame for everything. He told my cousin to point the finger at him for getting muddy in a creek many year ago after my grandmother scolded him. “grandad pushed me in the creek!” Another time after he went inside to bandage himself up after skateboarding with us, “grandma says I can’t skateboard anymore.”
So many memories.
we had a military service at the cemetery where they covered his casket with the flag, played taps, and sent him off with a 21 gun salute. Myself and my cousins received a shell casing.
I’ve been through the loss of a best friend, the loss of other loved ones, I have gone months and months without seeing my child while fighting for custody many years ago...
I’ve never felt my heart physically ache the way that it has since last Thursday. He went nearly 10 years without my grandmother. I couldn’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been. I’m in the “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” stage of grief right now.
He was my role model, my hero and he hung the moon to me.
Until I see you again, grandad....