A Little Bit Of Mushiness Never Hurt Anyone

On this would be Rave Review Tuesday, I have little to offer in that department since I am finishing my re-read of Harry Potter and my assumption is you will soon be tired of me talking about it. Perhaps next week, when I am officially done (for now), I will offer my perspective on the series. For now however, I haven’t seen or read anything new in awhile.

I will say that I must be getting older because I had no idea what “bae” meant until less than an hour ago. The bad part about this is that I thought I knew and I was wrong, which is just embarrassing. I thought it was another term for “beau” or lover, but in fact it means, “before anything else.” I mean, who even comes up with that? My cousin Michael had to tell me.

On a more serious note, to something that connects but does not necessarily seem to, I am realizing that it has now been 13 years since my grandfather has passed. Since graduating high school, I would say that time has appeared to be moving at a much faster clip than I realized before, but perhaps I’ve just done more in my life in these past years. Maybe I have a better understanding of how precious time is. However, it seems odd that the summer of 2001 could have been that long ago. It strikes me that I have lived a longer life without him than I did with him.

I’ve always believed that it borders on unfair that, if we are among the lucky ones to even get them at this point, we have our grandparents with us in our younger years. It is a blessing and a curse because we need them in our formative years, to love and influence us. But we also need them as we get older, to guide us and support us in a way that no other person can. I lost my grandfather when I was 11 years old, but I wish more than anything I had him now, because I was far too young to appreciate him.

Grandparents should be cherished, and this is something I wish to impress upon my own children one day. I love hearing stories that my father, uncles, or grandma tell me more about the person my grandpa was. I know that he loved Pepsi, and even though I don’t drink soda, whenever I see a blue can, I smile and think of him. I know that he worked hard for his large family every day of his life, despite the struggles and hardships bestowed upon him. I know that he loved my grandma and his family very much and I was among them.

Not a day passes that I don’t wonder what he might think of me now. I mourn for him and for the memories that, however revered, are no longer as strong after so long. I mourn also for the questions I never asked, for the hugs I didn’t get to give, and for the wisdom I could have learned from him had I had the capacity and understanding to sit down and really listen.

I would never go as far as to say these moments and those memories are wasted on the youth, because that wouldn’t be fair. But I do try to live my life with a little more purpose, an open mind, and a curiosity that stretches towards the ones I love and what makes them, them.

We all have our life stories. These stories are all fraught with obstacles and pain, but love and imagination so brilliant that even if not able to be shared with the world, are shared with the people closest to us. That is far more important than how many reads I get on this blog that aren’t my family members and friends who I’ve pressured into reading, or how many Twitter followers I try to accumulate with my witticisms.

Over the past year especially, I feel as though I have reconnected, or maybe strengthened is the better term, my relationships with aunts, uncles, and cousins. Family is important, essential to the building block who a person is, and I am incredibly lucky to say that I have a wonderful family. Every single one of them, immediate or extended, are remarkable people.

At the risk of sounding mushy, I will say that the anniversary of my grandpa’s death has brought much perspective and reflection upon this past year, as well as the last 13 we’ve lived without him.

I just want to say that I miss him and for me, my best way of coping is to express myself through writing. If you can do one thing today, tomorrow, or for the rest of your life, hug someone, anyone, and everyone who you love and sit with them, listen, and learn who they are, what they have to say, and in turn, share yourself.

Okay, so that’s two things.

I no longer want to be missing the moments I didn’t have because I will be sure now to make them happen.

RIP Grandpa. You are very much missed.

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3 thoughts on “A Little Bit Of Mushiness Never Hurt Anyone

  1. Well said! It’s hard to realize how long it’s been since you’ve lost someone, and that life does move on. You’ve done so much to be proud of, and I’m sure your grampa is proud of you šŸ™‚

    Also, I just learned the definition of bae from Nebula about a week ago…

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