17 years ago...

Yesterday marked the anniversary.

I was 8 years old. It was a Saturday morning and my mom had dropped me off at my aunt and uncle's house in San Mateo to visit my dying grandfather at Kaiser Redwood City. I hadn't seen Grandpa in a few weeks because he was looking worse every time we saw him. It was almost the end. We all knew it. I didn't want to believe it.

Uncle Jeff was sleeping. He had been at the hospital all night with Grandpa. Seain and I were in the living room playing Nintendo while auntie Julie was around (I forget what she was doing). The phone rang. Auntie answered it. 5 minutes later, my uncle came down the hall into living room with tears in his eyes. He said something I couldn't understand. Seain could, I couldn't. Seain started crying. WTF was going on?? What happened? Why is Jeff crying????

"Grandpa died"....silence.

Shock. Pain. Broken heart. It was all gone. The velcro shoes and scruffy kisses hello. The jingling change in his pocket and the bird sounds he whistled. Nascar races in the family room with salami sandwiches and waking up from naps to Grammie and Grandpa playing Gin while drinking hiballs...it was gone. He was gone.

17 year later, and I still miss him. I still talk to him and wonder if he's around, watching how our family has grown. The grandkids are getting married, having children, living adult lives. What would he say? Would he be proud? Would he smile? I think he would. His family was his life.

I'm glad you aren't suffering anymore Grandpa. We love you and we miss you.

Earl Robert Barrett
1921-1992