Jonah Dabbles in Grief.

Rest in Peace Grandpa

I am exhausted.

There is no sugarcoating the news of a loved one passing. The overwhelming weight of an uncertain future that you feared has come sooner than expected. You want the world to stop for you, to let you take a breather, to process, and to grieve. Unfortunately, the sun continues to rise and set just as it had before. To illustrate this weight, imagine a dark veil engulfing your heart and mind, with each entering or fleeting thought required to interact and wrestle with the dampness of your loss. Jokes with friends, hugs from loved ones, walks after dinner, colors of the world, all feel like they have been dimmed by an entity larger than yourself. A constant reminder of the reality that your loved one is no longer with you.

The last time I saw my Grandfather was June 23rd. My Grandfather passed away on September 20th. His burial was on October 25th. It is now October 27th as I write this. The last time I saw my Grandfather, we exchanged goodbyes with an understanding that we would once again see each other. That ‘once again’ will not come. I will not have an opportunity to talk with my Grandfather, to shake his hand, or to hug him. I will not have another opportunity to share a drink, talk about the White Sox, or share a dinner. The month in between his passing and his burial had been difficult. An overwhelming sense of dread loomed overhead as my family and I waited to lay him to rest. You try to take your mind off his passing, but no thought or action seems to be greater than the life of a loved one. If you were able to get your mind off things and delay facing the inevitable, it is only so good until the delayed emotions lash out in an unhealthy outlet. You are forced to face the thoughts and difficulties of grief.

Many people boast about not having any regrets in life, but without having regret, you fail to recognize and grow from your past. Through regret, you can identify new values and new lessons. Understanding that Life, once it is lost it is no longer accessible and will not come back. I regret not being there for my Grandfather when he fell ill. I regret not going to Spring Training games with him when he offered. I regret not talking to him on the phone more. I regret not sitting down with him and interviewing him about the life he lived, his fun stories, his heartbreaks, and the lessons he learned. These are all things I set aside for the future, but now I will forever be unable to.

Growing up, I was not super close with my Grandfather’s side of the family. We would see each other a few times a year for Holidays and the occasional birthday, but few opportunities outside of those. Going to the Celebration of Life for my Grandfather introduced me to parts of my family whom I have not met, and if I have, it was when I was a young child. Looking through photos and hearing stories of my Grandfather showed me a different side of him that I have not seen before. The young party-going, community-involved individual that he was. It was a touching tribute to the life he lived. I hope to continue to grow these relationships on this side of my family, even if they are smaller events like going to a school play or football game for my younger cousins.

This loss is the first I have experienced as an adult. The loss of my Lola occurred when I was a young child, when I did not have a full grasp on what it means to lose a loved one. As an adult with a greater grasp of the fleeting nature of life, this one hits exceptionally hard. I do not know how this will continue to impact my life or if I will fully heal. At the Celebration of Life, with all the family members and friends, I still looked for him in the crowd, expecting to see his familiar face. From the single month I have had to reflect between his passing and his celebration of life, it still does not feel real. The world continued to move as I was left with an emptiness inside. You have to show up to work and act like all is normal, have conversations with colleagues about your weekend as if nothing happened. It does not feel real. This pain will persist, and I believe that I will not fully heal, but I will learn how to navigate this loss and a new chapter in life.

To conclude, here is an open letter to my Grandfather.

Hi Grandpa,

I miss and I love you. Who knew the last time that I would see you would be so many months ago? It’s unfair how unpredictable life can be. We had planned to see you to celebrate your 80th birthday party. It is just not the same without you. I was looking forward to going to Spring Training with you and watching the White Sox try to pull things together. I was looking forward to you being there on my wedding day. I know you will not be able to, but I know you will be there in spirit.

Thank you for all that you’ve done for me. Thank you for teaching me all you knew about baseball. Thank you for playing catch with me. Thank you for coming to my games and giving me advice. Thank you for the talks about the White Sox season and how they are consistently disappointing season after season. Thank you for being there in my milestones in life. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me. Thank you for your love.

Love,
Jonah

Song: Who You’d Be Today by Kenny Chesney