Hey there Gramps,
How you doing? It’s been ages since we spoke but I can still hear your voice and see the smile you always had for me.
I closed my eyes this morning and pretended to walk into mom’s old Kupulau house.
“Hey there, Pearly! How’s my gem doing?”
“Hiya there gramps, how’s the coffee?”
I can here you laugh then with your eyes dancing in delight. With you it was always just having a “skoshy” bit of coffee, although we all knew differently. I’d smile then because you always had a way of making me feel loved, welcomed, accepted. On a grumpy day you could make me laugh.
“Look at what I got for ya,” you tell me. Then lift up and dangle a whole bunch of Apple bananas at me. I take them from your hand and sit down with you for breakfast. I’m eating my bunch of amazing bananas while you’re eating your toast with peanut butter. We talk about life and sometimes it includes stories of my past or yours. Your stories were so much more entertaining.
I woke up this morning missing you.
Hey there, Gramps. How you doing? Are you still drinking your skoshy bit of coffee in Heaven? Are you dancing with Nana to the music of the Angels? Are you and Nana spoiling my babies like you spoiled Jeremy?
I remember when Jeremy bought me my Renesmee. You were here in Washington visiting Uncle Shawn guys and I wanted to show you my car because I knew you’d be proud. Proud for the fact that it was a Ford and proud with the fact that Jeremy and I were making a way for ourselves. You and I sat in my car and I got to show you all the fun stuff that we had added. It came with all the bells and whistles I wasn’t accustomed to. You were surprised because when I started her up it was like she wasn’t on. Then we strolled down the block. I can still see your smiling facing, a proud grandfather.
Jeremy and I got a little turned around for a bit, but Gramps we are on our way. We are looking at a map and asking for direction, just like you wanted us to. I only wish you were here to see it.
Now I can hear you, “Pearly baby! Welcome home.” I wish RIP stood for return if possible.
Today marks two years that you went home. You’re no longer in pain. But I can’t even remember you that way. I can only remember the laughter, the stories, the happiness you brought. It’s a good thing. I don’t want to remember how cancer took away yet another life. Cancer sucks.
Gramps, I’ve said this before but I need you to know that you have had a profound impact on my life. You influenced the way I see myself in God and the way I see others. You helped guide my understanding on the way I treat myself and the way I treat others. You showed me that love is without boundaries and showed me how God loves that I may emulate that love. You have been instrumental in my walk with God showing me that judgement will only bring me anger and frustration.
I think I speak for the rest of the family when I say we miss you. Dearly. One thing has changed since you went home: Everything. Now, as we build our paths without you we hold you in our hearts and honor the work that you’ve done, honor the man you stood for, honor the way you carved out for us. Thank you for it all.
Until we see you again.