Chaos Begins
I've just returned from the impromptu family meeting. Well, the impromptu family meeting, and then a non-alcoholic drink with Gus and the B&C. After all, I was driving.
My grandmother's trying her hardest to be stoic and carry on; she's not really fooling anyone, but she's making a good go of it. Mom's doing okay; she's making up stories in her head as usual (apparently I failed choir in middle school; good to know). My uncle's being difficult, as usual. My aunt was on better behavior than normal, and her kids were relatively quiet and well-behaved. The other grandkids are probably in shock; after me at twenty-two, and Twitley at nineteen, the next youngest is about seventeen, then fourteen, then about twelve, and then the twins at ten. My uncle's kids lost their grandmother in 1996, when they were quite a bit younger, so my guess is that this is the first death they've ever really had to deal with, though I could be wrong.
Twitley started school in Wyoming on Monday. It doesn't make much sense for him to start school, go for three days, and come immediately home again. Dad said that he didn't say much over the phone. We have yet to see what will happen; I know he's been discouraged from coming back for the funeral by dad. I just don't know.
Who does that leave? Me and the in-laws. My dad, my uncle's wife, and my aunt's husband. Dad's the obvious leader of the pack for reasons I won't go into; my aunt spent the time being a good hostess, which is probably both her way of coping, and her way of being supportive. My uncle had some good input, and helped bring a bit of low-intensity levity to the situation. Not surprisingly, they're the stability in the situation, what little of it there is. Dad says it's already turning into chaos, which is par for the course.
Me? Well, I'm doing okay. I'm reflective. I'm nostalgic. I keep thinking of things that remind me of my grandfather. My toenail, for instance. I've been nursing an in-grown toenail; I performed a bit of amateur microsurgery on it last night. It reminds me of the time after my car accident when he and I were in his workshop, replacing my damaged fender. We were about halfway through when his wrench hand slipped and he tore off most of his fingernail; either thumb or forefinger, I don't remember. He didn't scream, he didn't cry, he just emphatically commented on how painful it was, then wrapped his bleeding thumb (I think it was his thumb) with a rag and directed me as I did the rest of the work.
I'm a religious person. Or rather, I'm a devout Christian; "religious" to me implies a sort of mechanical, formal piety that has nothing to do with a real relationship with God, though they can coexist. I know for a fact that for seventy out of my grandfather's seventy years, my grandfather loved God, and did what God told him to do. Because of that, I'm not worried about his current disposition. That makes it easier for me to deal.
The tough part, though, was looking through my phone for people to call and notify. And as I was scrolling through the stored numbers, there it was: "Grandpa." I paused for a moment. And then, as I was getting ready to go to the impromptu meeting, it struck me just how many people he touched. For a lot of people, my grandfather's death will be devastating. There was even discussion of one guy who might die without my grandfather to take care of him, and it wasn't an exaggeration; my grandfather was the only one who has any influence on him.
I need to get to bed. I'll try to keep posting as I'm able; it looks as if I won't be able to join in on the arrangements. That means school, and the computer lab, and reading the news, and trying to stay on top of things. The world didn't stop turning for those killed a week and a half ago in one of the most horrendous natural disasters in history, and it won't stop for me.
As I think about it, this changes my entire outlook on the near future. My grandfather paid for my college education, but won't be there in June when I graduate. My wife will, almost without question, never have met my grandfather. My children will never know a great-grandfather. He'll never see me have a real job, he'll never see me buy a home, or buy a car. But there's a legacy in all of those hours spent in the shop, fixing my rig, or working on the Dodge, or any number of other things. My grandfather, who fed me so many afternoons following a solid hour in the shop, or bought me lemon drops... My grandfather, who's the only member of my family ever to take me camping... He's gone.
Like I said, I need to go to bed. I'll post more. Maybe not about this.
My grandmother's trying her hardest to be stoic and carry on; she's not really fooling anyone, but she's making a good go of it. Mom's doing okay; she's making up stories in her head as usual (apparently I failed choir in middle school; good to know). My uncle's being difficult, as usual. My aunt was on better behavior than normal, and her kids were relatively quiet and well-behaved. The other grandkids are probably in shock; after me at twenty-two, and Twitley at nineteen, the next youngest is about seventeen, then fourteen, then about twelve, and then the twins at ten. My uncle's kids lost their grandmother in 1996, when they were quite a bit younger, so my guess is that this is the first death they've ever really had to deal with, though I could be wrong.
Twitley started school in Wyoming on Monday. It doesn't make much sense for him to start school, go for three days, and come immediately home again. Dad said that he didn't say much over the phone. We have yet to see what will happen; I know he's been discouraged from coming back for the funeral by dad. I just don't know.
Who does that leave? Me and the in-laws. My dad, my uncle's wife, and my aunt's husband. Dad's the obvious leader of the pack for reasons I won't go into; my aunt spent the time being a good hostess, which is probably both her way of coping, and her way of being supportive. My uncle had some good input, and helped bring a bit of low-intensity levity to the situation. Not surprisingly, they're the stability in the situation, what little of it there is. Dad says it's already turning into chaos, which is par for the course.
Me? Well, I'm doing okay. I'm reflective. I'm nostalgic. I keep thinking of things that remind me of my grandfather. My toenail, for instance. I've been nursing an in-grown toenail; I performed a bit of amateur microsurgery on it last night. It reminds me of the time after my car accident when he and I were in his workshop, replacing my damaged fender. We were about halfway through when his wrench hand slipped and he tore off most of his fingernail; either thumb or forefinger, I don't remember. He didn't scream, he didn't cry, he just emphatically commented on how painful it was, then wrapped his bleeding thumb (I think it was his thumb) with a rag and directed me as I did the rest of the work.
I'm a religious person. Or rather, I'm a devout Christian; "religious" to me implies a sort of mechanical, formal piety that has nothing to do with a real relationship with God, though they can coexist. I know for a fact that for seventy out of my grandfather's seventy years, my grandfather loved God, and did what God told him to do. Because of that, I'm not worried about his current disposition. That makes it easier for me to deal.
The tough part, though, was looking through my phone for people to call and notify. And as I was scrolling through the stored numbers, there it was: "Grandpa." I paused for a moment. And then, as I was getting ready to go to the impromptu meeting, it struck me just how many people he touched. For a lot of people, my grandfather's death will be devastating. There was even discussion of one guy who might die without my grandfather to take care of him, and it wasn't an exaggeration; my grandfather was the only one who has any influence on him.
I need to get to bed. I'll try to keep posting as I'm able; it looks as if I won't be able to join in on the arrangements. That means school, and the computer lab, and reading the news, and trying to stay on top of things. The world didn't stop turning for those killed a week and a half ago in one of the most horrendous natural disasters in history, and it won't stop for me.
As I think about it, this changes my entire outlook on the near future. My grandfather paid for my college education, but won't be there in June when I graduate. My wife will, almost without question, never have met my grandfather. My children will never know a great-grandfather. He'll never see me have a real job, he'll never see me buy a home, or buy a car. But there's a legacy in all of those hours spent in the shop, fixing my rig, or working on the Dodge, or any number of other things. My grandfather, who fed me so many afternoons following a solid hour in the shop, or bought me lemon drops... My grandfather, who's the only member of my family ever to take me camping... He's gone.
Like I said, I need to go to bed. I'll post more. Maybe not about this.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home