One year.

Tomorrow marks one year since my grandfather passed away. What can I say except that he was my hero, the epitome of generosity and love, I miss him every single day and the last year has been harder than I could have ever imagined. Words cannot begin to express how grateful I am to have spent the past year (and the 4 prior) living in his home. Those four walls on 53rd Street were one of the few constants I had in my childhood and living there this past year without my grandfather has been difficult. I remember those first few nights so vividly - there was a strange silence and a sense of emptiness and feelings of loss that I had never felt in that house. And I hated it. I knew I had to do something to fill my time since I couldn't bear just to sit and be still. So I started cleaning and Lord knows there was a lot of that needed to be done! From the time I got home from work until the time I went bed, I went through closets and drawers and boxes and rooms. Spending that time going through my grandfather's belongings was most certainly therapeutic and led me to discover just how much I love giving new life to old things. That little hobby of mine has helped me more than I can possibly say. Looking back, I can't believe the sun has risen and set 365 times since that horrible morning but it's a reminder that life goes on and with each passing day it gets a little easier. I thank the Lord for carrying my family and I through this past year when we could barely walk and I trust Him to see us through the next. I recently found this quote from Memoirs of a Geisha that I'd like to end with...

"Grief is the most peculiar thing; we're so helpless in the face of it. It's like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it."

24 years.

Today marks the 24th anniversary of my grandmother's passing. It's sad to admit but I really don't remember her very well. I was only 6 years old, so I guess that's understandable. But it doesn't change the fact that I wish I had more memories of her.

However, the biggest thing I remember is how much my grandfather missed her. He missed her every single day for 24 years.

How he would watch hours of home movies and would tear up as soon as she came on screen.

How he strategically positioned a photo of her so he could easily see it from his recliner.

How he loved and missed her lemon meringue pie and how nothing ever came close to it.

But today is different. Today they're together. And knowing that makes this day just a little easier.

Two weeks.

Tomorrow will mark two weeks since my grandfather passed away and it somehow feels like an eternity. A few nights ago, was the first night I spent alone in the house and thankfully, it wasn't as bad I feared it would be. It was difficult but I did it. I figure I need to get use to the fact that this house is empty - after living here for 53 years - my grandfather is gone.

He passed away at home, in his own bed, just hours before we were going to move him to a hospice facility for 5 days. He needed more care and my mom needed rest. He had fallen the morning before around 4am and my mom and I tried but couldn't lift him up so we had to call 911 for help. Later that day, my mom and uncle spent time talking with his nurse, social worker and hospice team to figure out what our options were. He wasn't able to walk or move himself from his scooter to his bed anymore, and without strength on his part, my mom just couldn't physically take care of him at home. It was a really hard decision, but was one that would give us time to figure out how we could continue to care for him.

Later that evening on February 4th, he seemed to be pretty agitated. We called the nurse around 8pm because the medication they told us would relax him wasn't doing it's job. He was talking about things that didn't make any sense to us and kept wanting to get out of his bed. He kept motioning like he was buttoning his shirt or eating something or taking off a sweater - none of which he was actually doing. The nurse ended up staying until about 11:30pm. She had given him some more medication and he was finally starting to relax - still talking and motioning but with not as much energy. The blessing is that I was able to sit at his bedside that evening, hold his hand and tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me. I would ask him questions to try to pull him out of the agitation - about his work in Oregon or the time he met boxer Joe Lewis and he would answer me! I asked him what his all time highest bowling score was and he answered with a clear "279 in a practice game!" There were a lot of tears that evening and I remember thinking that watching someone die has to be the worst thing in the world. It's flat out horrible. But because I trust in the Lord, I can find hope and joy through the heartache. I am so thankful that he wasn't suffering long! It was a short eight months from the time he was first diagnosed with aortic stenosis to the time he passed away. We knew it was going to happen, although it doesn't make it any easier.

When I finally went to sleep around 1am, I prayed the Lord would have mercy and compassion on him, ease his suffering and take him home. And He did. He passed away around 8am on February 5th at home, just like he wanted with his dignity in tact.

For anyone who's interested, you can click here for the link to his obituary.

This probably won't be the last post about my grandfather, so be warned :-) I feel like I have so much to say about him and I think it might help with the grief. But until then, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for all of your support and prayers! I love you guys!

Happy 94th!

This is a little late, but I figured I might as well post it anyway!

Last month on October 13th, my amazing grandfather turned 94 years old! It seems like just yesterday we were celebrating his 93rd.

We had a little bowling themed birthday party! He had a great day with a ton of phone calls from family and friends. I love that he has lived such a full life and has touched so many people. Unfortunately, his health is slowly declining and has had a recent diagnosis of a faulty heart valve - but his mind is still sharp as is his sense of humor! Out of the blue last night, he asked my mom and I "What's an illegal?" I think what? He knows what an illegal is (please, he lives in Maywood!) - it must be a joke.

"I think I have one in my backyard."

"You have an illegal in your backyard??"

"Yeah, it's a pretty sick bird."