This is a letter to my maternal grandfather. If you would like to read the letter to my paternal grandfather, click here. Grandpa G. passed away on October 14th, 2005.
It’s been ten years since you died. Holy. Crap. That’s insane.
I was eight when you died. Unfortunately, I remember that day all too well. Like I mentioned in my letter to my other grandfather, I really wish I didn’t.
I have some good memories of you in there, too. You always used to come to the park with me and my brother. You would sit on the bench while we rode around the small train with our mother, and you would wave each time we passed you. I remember you sitting in the garage at the big, white house and watching me and my brother play in the driveway.
I remember the despair in my mother’s eyes when we lost you.
Can you believe that ten years later, the house still feels weird without you? Holidays are always weird without you in the kitchen, wearing that red and black checkered shirt you always wore. I still see that shirt at Grandma’s house sometimes, and I have the urge to take it. I don’t know why.
The last thing I remember you buying me is a glass book end with a dog on it from the antique store you and Grandma loved so much. I managed to go eight years without breaking it, but unfortunately, everything on my desk decided to topple over one day, and the dog lost his tail. My dad said he’d glue it back on for me, but he hasn’t gotten around to it. What can ya do?
The last real memory I have of you is when we were at a party at Aunt Meg’s house. You gave me a dollar, and twenty minutes later, you tried to give me a dollar again. I explained to you that you had already given me a dollar earlier, and you became confused, insisting I take the second dollar. I remember being sad when that conversation ended; I was sad that you couldn’t remember.
You’re a great grandfather, can you believe that? Tim has a son named Elias, and Chris has a daughter named Charlotte. How crazy is that?
We’ve tried to get used to the fact that you’re gone, Grandpa. But honestly, I don’t really think anyone has.
Say hi to Aunt Jeanie for me, ok?