Archive

1.06.2007

My Grandpa.

Earlier this week my Grandpa, Gene Broom, passed away. I don't really know what to write for him here because I feel like I've gone through the grieving stage and am just numb right now. You know, there are periods in your life where you just start to cruise and become hypnotized by the lines in the road you're going down. Then death happens, like artillery fire in a war you can really feel the close ones, and this was close, the very first for me. And suddenly everything stops and you're left standing there staring at the damage, just staring and thinking because from now on there will always be this empty place in me and the rest of my family's lives. Life has forced change upon you, now I'm connected to this moment, ascending down from my own little self absorbed journey and trying to answer all the questions that time brings.
I loved my Grandpa very much, even though we rarely verbalized it I knew he appreciated having me around, I knew he loved me. Sometimes, a lot of times, he was just downright frustrating. Sometimes I would just sit there and wonder what in the world was going through his head or what his motivations were. Most of the time I simply took him for granted, acting as though he was..."just my grandpa". But he was always more than that and I see it more now than ever. I think because it happened so much that I just became blind to it, but he was a lot more. He always questioned me relentlessly about what was going in my life, what I was up to, what I planned on doing, if I enjoyed doing it or not. He would have done anything for anybody, I can see it now. At certain points I remember thinking he was just a cranky old man...he was, sometimes, definitely, but more important was that he knew how to make people feel good. He gave me my jokes, my sense of humor. He genuinely cared for people and I can see it all more clearly now that everyone God has put in my life cares deeply for others. The most caring people I know are my direct relatives; Grandma, dad and my mother, who was really awesome and did a lot for the family these past few weeks. But me, for some reason I feel that somehow I'll be better off in life if I just distance myself from everyone, that in the end I'll make it just fine living in a shell.
I know death isn't the end. And what's also important is that death teaches important lessons to those still around. I hope I'm a decent enough person, a strong enough person to learn and keep learning as so to not relive the same mistake my whole life.
And in the end, even though it's sometimes very easy to become cynical and distorted in how I view reality, at this time in my life I've never been more certain of the fact that my gramps is finally, truly happy. That the losses he's experienced, the ones that caused him so much hidden pain, are finally returned to him, he's become a whole man. Everything deep down that we got the occasional glimpse of is who he is, completely...and that makes me happy.
You know, I told him, but I don't think Will, my friend, knows how much it meant to me that he came to the funeral. He knew my grandfather pretty well, but I still would have understood if he decided not to come, I didn't expect him to. But Will always knows what to say, he didn't say anything then but the things he has said, about life, his deep philosophical musings, they all flood back to me at different times. And he was right about one thing, his passionate emphasis about bringing heaven to earth. Besides the fact that we should feed, cloth and care for the hurting, there should also be heaven in our lives, we should have no regrets and love each person in our lives passionately, because memories never die. We will get to see those who left us in the past once again. When we die we will see those behind us, but how will you live on? Who were you and how will you continue to influence those who knew you?

I'll see you again soon Gramps, I love you. And don't take any wooden nickels.