...ago today, my dear old grandfather passed away. Definitely one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with.
Frankly (and he would roll his eyes at my saying this), I think his passing is part of why I don't write much anymore. I don't mind being useless as much as I used to, either. Hear me out, though.
In my cobwebbed brain, I have a blog trying to unravel its way out. But, the harder it tries, the more my brain wraps sticky webbing all over it and pulls it further and deeper into the darkest confines of my emotionally unstable self.
The post will be titled, "What I Should Have Said". The premise is that at Gramps' memorial, there was open non-mic time. All kinds of people spoke. People I didn't know, people I did know, some of them didn't make a ton of sense, all of them loved Gramps. A couple days before the funeral, I had told my mom (who mentioned they were having a hard time finding people to do eulogies) that I would be happy to do one and even had some stuff written up that I could throw together and read. When open not-mic time started, I couldn't speak. I knew I couldn't. Honestly, I didn't even try. I knew I'd basically say, "I'm not gonna make it through this without breaking down, so bare with me," break down and that be all I got out.
Fact of the matter is this, I had/have a TON to say. There are soooo many things to say about my grandfather. I talk about him all the time. I'm finally at a point where I don't cry about it every day, but I definitely couldn't have said them then and can't find a way to write it down now.
No joke, I think of things to say almost every day. There are so many stories, so many fond memories about him, part of me wants to write an all out memoir. Probably still call it "What I Should Have Said", and make each "chapter" about one bullet point I should have said at his funeral.
But that's why I have nothing of value to write about. Maybe during this whole being unemployed thing, I'll actually sit down and do something about it.
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