Death and Sadness

So it has been a long time since I have had a grandparent die. In 1999, my mother's father passed away at the age of 94. He had lived with us for about 6 months 3 years before and I grew close to him and learned a lot from him, especially about prayer and faith. Then in November of 2005, Pret's grandfather died, but I had only had the opportunity of meeting him a few times, so it was't too difficult.

Growing up, I didn't live close to either of my sets of grandparents (I only met my grandma Sohn once before she died when I was very young). But next door to us lived Pat and Keith. They were both older and all their children had moved away and their grandchildren were all even older than I was, so I "adopted" them as my "grandparents" and they adopted me.

I spent many hours over there--mainly because they had cable TV (including Nickelodeon!), pop, and gum available to me at any time. They would let me in any time I came over and welcome me with open arms. I would even get to eat dinner over there sometimes, which was quite a treat! They had a little weiner dog named Cletus, who they would ask me to "dog sit" when they had parties or other things going on in the evening. Basically, they were the grandparents I got to visit every day. They had both been heavy smokers, but Keith had a heart attack and was told he had to quit, so instead he always kept a pack of gum in his pocket and would pull out a piece when he wanted "a smoke." Pat on the otherhand, smoked, what seemed like, almost continuously, but it never seemed to bother me when she did, even though I still can't stand it when others smoke around me. I didn't even notice that my clothes smelled of cigarette smoke when I got home, although I am sure that it bothered my mom and dad.

When I left for college, they had moved out to "The Place," their ranch house about 25 minutes out of town. There, Keith had built a beautiful log cabin in the middle of the Hidden Valley. My mom made sure I went to visit them anytime I came to town for an extended period of time. I went begrudgingly, mainly because I felt like they were "old" and I didn't have anything to talk to them about anymore. But after I went, I was always glad that I had.

Yesterday I got a message from my dad telling me that Pat had died on Monday. It is hard for me to even write this without crying (I am failing, to be honest.) I never thought that this would have hit me so hard. I know that I was close to them when I was younger, but I have not been in contact with them for years. I guess it comes from thinking about when my own grandparents will pass on and not looking forward to that time. I also hope that Keith will be able to get on by himself. As Pret has told me, it is probably a good thing as I'm sure her health wasn't too good after smoking for 50+ years. She also has a daughter and sister that have passed on, so she can now be with them once again.

The funeral is tomorrow and I am horribly sad that I can't get up there for it. I hope that my thoughts and prayers will pass the distance and provide some comfort to the family and friends.

To Pat--know that you have made a wonderful difference in the life of one small girl whom you loved unconditionally!