I Miss Him

For those who don't know, my grandfather passed away just over a week ago.

To just call him a grandfather seems so... well, it hardly defines what he was to me. He was my surrogate daddy, my buddy, an incredible part of my support system. When I was hurting, it showed in his face just how much he hurt for me and hoped I'd get better. When I was succeeding, he was so proud that it made me feel like I accomplished 10 times more than what I had just done. It didn't matter if it was just that I had (finally) learned to make a good pot of coffee. He made me feel like I had just figured out something brand new, better than anyone else could do. Of course, when I did bigger accomplishments, like a writing or television job, he made me feel like a huge deal. But when those didn't work out, he didn't make me feel like a failure. He made me feel hopeful.

He was always cold, so he often wore cashmere sweaters. My head hit perfectly at his shoulder, so when we hugged, I could snuggle right into the soft fabric and feel protected. I never wanted to let go.

He didn't like his smile, but seeing it and hearing his low laugh, often with a soft snort, just lit me up. His eyes would twinkle and the smile was usually there because I said something silly or because he was picking on me or my cousin who is my age.

He had many passions. Sports, rocks (he owned quarries), family, photography... but he told me that nature was his religion. He loved to take all of his kids, grandkids and great-grandkids out to his enormous farm for a day trip. And I loved going. He showed me how to appreciate every little detail and I always knew that when he was gone, that's where I would find him. In the lightest breeze, in a falling leaf, in a rolling hill, in the sunset, in fluttering butterflies... I know that's where I'll see him.

I'm so blessed to have had the love that he gave me. To think that I'm his youngest grandchild and I'm 26 and got to have him this long... and he was healthy and as active as a middle-aged man until the two and a half weeks that he was in the hospital... he didn't have to suffer. He never had to feel old. That's something he never wanted and started fearing. He golfed in March when we went to California, he went to his big farm every week until he went to the hospital. He never got old.