I am blessed in that I have had all of my grandparents living- this grandpa is the first of my grandparents to pass away.
I... well, I'm okay.
Can I be honest, here?
Typically, I'm very emotional. I cry at the drop of a hat, really- sappy commercials, wedding videos, birth stories- I cry. And it's not only the "little" things- Zeke lost his grandmother about a year ago, and that was very hard.
But I'm not very sad about losing my grandpa.
If I was being very kind, I would call my grandpa a storyteller. If was being truthful, I would call him a truth-stretcher. I really did not know him, honestly. There was always, in everything he ever told me, an element of untruth.
Some people elaborate on events to make things more interesting (and I'm often guilty of this one), some people tell lies to make themselves look better, and some people, well, they seem to be unable to tell the truth in any situation. From the big things to the little things, my grandpa was one of the third kind.
I always kind of thought that someday I'd know him. That someday, I'd have an actual adult conversation with him. That I'd hear about his childhood, learn more about my heritage. I thought I'd know something about him or about his character, or about what he thought was important. That won't ever happen now.
I'm a little angry about that. What kind of legacy does that leave for me? A legacy of lies and tall tales, of untruths and fantasies? How do I grieve someone I've never really met?
I feel guilty that I'm not sad. I will be sad to see my dad grieving. It will hurt to see my grandmother saying goodbye to the man she loved. But for me? I don't think I'll shed many tears. That somehow feels wrong.
I'm not sure about what I'm really feeling. I think that processing all this will take a while.
Pray for all of us, will you? Thank you.