Updating at Last

Here's my grandpa from Thanksgiving last year. Isn't he just so cute? That smile never went away, even after all of his heartache.

Thanks to everyone for your kind words and prayers. They were much appreciated by me and my family. The wake and funeral were difficult and weird and sad. It made me realize how much Grandpa had changed over the past few years. It awakened all those memories of when I was a kid and he'd do magic tricks and take me to the park and buy me candy. He loved toy stores as much as I did. He made the best white gravy I've ever had and everytime I came to visit, he'd fix them with rolls because I'm a freak and like rolls and gravy for breakfast. Nobody has ever been able to fix a breakfast as good he could. He was also obsessed with chocolate covered cherries. We're talking serious love here, people. So serious that one year we spent the entire morning after Thanksgiving buying boxes and boxes and boxes and boxes of chocolate covered cherries at the dollar store because they were on sale. And we all had to make separate purchases because there was a limit. He froze half of what we bought, so he could eat them year round. He and Grandma used to buy cans of food every time it was sale and hide it under the beds in the guest bedroom in case of an earthquake or another depression. He let me drive his Buick after he bought it and my mom nearly had a mental breakdown, but he was calm as could be. He didn't understand why I'd ever pierce my ears because it was too much adornment. He'd quote practically any verse from the King James Version of the Bible faster than you can say "Translated in 1611!" He would push on the other end of the seesaw, because he felt bad I didn't have a friend to play with. He always gave me money when I came to visit because I was "the favorite" and always told me to never tell Grandma. I miss him.

This was also a good opportunity to realize that I'm pretty sure I'm a genetic clone of my mother and if one more person says I look just like her, I might just have to shoot them.

Another shocking revelation: my (extended) family can be so damn embarassing. One of my cousins showed up to the wake in the tightest jeans known to man. They were so tight, I'm pretty sure she wasn't breathing. And that permanent wedgie? Didn't look comfortable. And her sister wore "dress" shorts with this weird maroon vest-type top and black stockings. Not flattering. At all. These are my first cousins, people. This is their grandfather, who they spent lots more time with since they lived in the same town...at one point living on the SAME PROPERTY. Neither showed for the funeral because they're ungrateful wenches who have no sense of love or honor for their family. I was always jealous of them because they got to see Grandpa all the time and now that he's gone, they don't have the decency to show up and socialize and dress appropriately? My only comfort is that I'm pretty sure my Grandpa wouldn't have been surprised.

Final realization: I need to change things. I refuse to die with no friends or family around me. I refuse to die miserable and alone. I refuse to die and have only bullshit said at my funeral. I want the minister to speak highly of me because I lived a life worth living. I want people to be be glad my life was full. I want more than what I have now.