It wasn't fair. He wasn't supposed to go.
It was supposed to be a broken hip--not cancer.
My grandpa and I were best friends.
I remember when I was little, I would beg my mom to take me to see them. When we got there, I would go to my grandpa and say, "I'm a man--duh! (Amanda)" and he'd reply, "Well, I'm a man too!" with a wink. I'd give him a hug and lay next to him on the couch, where we would usually take an afternoon nap--him with his night cap on to keep his bald head from getting cold.
I remember Easter egg hunts. when I found all that was for me, I would excitedly show my grandma and grandpa what the bunny brought. We'd have a barbecue and he would help cook the food.
I remember sitting on the recliner next to his as we watched a movie and both ended up asleep. The usual was Air Bud or a princess movie. One day, he suggested we watch Fantasia (I think? It was the Mickey Mouse movie that was just music and Mickey leading it). We turned it on, fell right asleep, and when we woke up, we both decided that was too boring to ever watch together again. A movie was always part of our day when I slept over, and I slept over quite often because, like I said, he was my best friend.
I remember chewing my nails while sitting in that recliner chair and him saying, "Don't do that! They'll go straight to your stomach and cut it up!"
I remember he'd grab my wrist, give it a soft pinch and say, "I'm pulling your arm hairs! You should shave!" or some joke like that, and I would grab his arm hairs and tell him, "You're one to talk!"
I remember every time we were there, as we were giving him kisses goodbye, he'd give us a kiss, and say, "CHIN PIE!" and rub his pokey chin all over our foreheads as we squirmed and laughed, trying to get away. All of us eventually got smart and would give a quick kiss and try for a quick getaway, but sometimes, he'd still get us. It was fun.
I remember the fruit trees in the back yard, how he'd pick the fruit and have some ready for us to take home; but he always had his own share of it, too, which would be jarred and put into the fruit closet in the basement. To me, as little as I was, it seemed like an endless supply of canned fruit which would always be there for us, awaiting our snack times.
I remember him saying, "Come here, I want to show you something." He'd take me down into the fruit closet and say, "See all these? These are the fruits that I pick and jar myself. Would you like some? Apples, pears, peaches, or apricots?" We'd then take what was picked upstairs and share a jar.
I remember eating graham crackers and milk for dessert.
I remember sleepovers at their house. One day, I had 5 teeth taken out. I talked my mom into letting me stay at my grandparents' house for the night. The next morning, they proved that the tooth fairy didn't just go to my house. I woke up and went to the kitchen for breakfast and my grandma asked if I checked under my pillow. When I replied, "No," my grandpa told me to hurry back and check before the tooth fairy decided I didn't want it and took it back. I got $5. One morning, my grandpa came in and tried to wake me up for breakfast. I pretended not to hear. He went and told my grandma I wasn't up, so she came in and I scared her. One afternoon, at lunchtime, my grandma told me to try her lobster she had gotten the night before, since I had never tried it before. My grandpa said, "Oh yeah?! Try THIS!!" He gave me what looked like just a mini pickle. I tried it and about died from the terrible taste, with him saying, "Sweet pickle! Good, huh?" My grandma and I exchanged glances as she smiled at my reaction.
I remember when they first got their dog, Fiona. She was cute, but didn't always like my attention. He always saved me from her when she got upset.
I remember going in the basement to see why he had been down there so long, finding him hard at work, sanding and cutting wood, showing me his projects, and cleaning up. He was so good. He made the marble track at my house and his, the dresser in my bedroom, the cow chimes hanging in our kitchen, the little rocking chair at my parents' house, and many other things. He was a master when it came to building things. He even built his home. He was always at work. When he sat down, it wasn't for long, until he really could not get up. He worked harder than anyone I have ever known and he'll forever be a great example to me of hard work.
I remember looking at pictures of him and asking my mom why he never smiled in them. When I saw a picture where he was smiling, I would just smile at it and stare at it, because that was my grandpa--my best friend in the entire world and that's what I saw whenever I thought about him.
I remember going to his house to visit him after he had tried to pick fruit, lost his balance, and fell off the ladder near the tree, breaking his hip. I remember having to go to the store to buy him something, and my dad having to explain that even though it was Sunday, it was an emergency and it was OK.
I remember going from hospital, to care center, to other centers to visit him. I remember his sad, sick, tired face. I remember him on his medications which made him funny. I remember just wanting to hug him, because he was my best friend and I didn't want to lose him. I miss countless nights crying for him. I remember arguments and heartache. I remember when he got to go home to be on hospice. It was so hard to see him not able to leave that bed they brought in to stay in the front room, after all those years of always seeing him hard at work, he could no longer do the things he loved or move the way he had been able to his whole life. He was slipping away.
I remember when my mom called, all I wanted to do was cry and know everything: How they watched him go, how my grandma held his hand and cried, telling him to go...Hearing the pain on the other end of the phone line, I didn't cry at the time, because Kayla was there and she brought great comfort. And I'm very glad she was there, because I might have lost it completely because of how close he and I were.
I look back at those memories, and think, it's not fair! I still have not had closure and I still wonder if I will ever have closure. Why do the old people have to be the cool people? They're the ones who are next to go. What are we to do? Have you SEEN the younger generations? Yep, the world's gonna be in our hands. Great. Seriously, though! It's so hard. Every time I get a new best friend, they go. My parents keep telling me to find a friend my own age.
My next door neighbors as a little kid were my best friends. Auline and Sister Ferry (I never knew her first name). Auline was living there to take care of her mother. I believe the mother was in her 90's. I never knew until after she died that Sister Ferry did not like kids very much--they were too crazy for her to handle. At least, my parents told me that. Auline tried to keep me away from her to give her peace a few times, but after a few visits, Sister Ferry seemed to want me to be near her for a bit, so I'd go. I was oblivious to giving anyone space. I thought everyone needed some talking time and a friend. It seemed to be OK. She and I could just talk. I'd go and ask her how she was doing and I'd sit on the couch and just listen. I had no idea what she was talking about most of the time, but I enjoyed it and I figured the least I could do was talk to her since she couldn't really get up from the couch very often. She just laid there, skinny and frail, barely able to talk and when she did, it was too shaky to really understand. Somehow, my dad was able to understand most of it, though, and carry out conversations with her. I learned how to over time. She would talk about how she was feeling and how Auline was helping her and then ask questions that would come to mind.
Auline had two dogs: Sparky and Twinkle. Sparky was crazy and playful. Twinkle was, too, but I could pick her up, wrap her in a blanket, and carry her around like a baby whenever I wanted. I loved them. Auline would give Luie (my Boxer+Blue-Healer(?) mix) tomatoes and other treats all the time. I loved those two ladies. Sister Ferry often had an ambulance at the house to take her to the hospital. My parents would be standing at the windows, worried, and I'd say, "She'll be fine," and she always was. Then one night, the ambulance came again. I went up to my room in tears. My dad came up to ask why I wasn't so confident, as I normally was. I told him that this time, it wasn't OK. She wasn't going to make it. I just knew it. The next morning, he came in my room and told me she died and since I had already cried the night before, prayed about it, thought about it, and grieved, I took it better because I knew and received comfort. One best friend gone...
Auline decided after her mom died that she needed to move back to her own house with her family. She'd send me birthday cards and we both promised we'd visit each other. She tried and we "never got the chance" or were "too busy." She came by a couple times before she sold the house to our new neighbors (who I taught some English to and whose son I taught to read), and we visited, but that was it. We became friends on facebook to keep up. Suddenly, she stopped liking my pictures and sending messages and I wondered what was going on. I wanted to put a note on her timeline, but when I went to it, family and friends had written memories and RIP and sadness on it. I felt my heart sink again. She was the third--after my grandpa--to go...I still have her last letter to me with pictures of her at Niagra Falls, Sparky, Twinkle, her Christmas tree with ornaments that my mom painted, and a letter of what's been going on in her life and asking me how my life was. I keep it safe. So safe, in fact, that I have to find it and when I do, it's always accompanied by many tears. I miss her dearly. I've written on her facebook wall since then, not knowing what else to do, feeling so sorry for not going to see her, but wanting to let her family know how special she was to me. Some replied to me, letting me know how much she talked about me to them and how loved I was by her. She truly is and was a very special and wonderful woman.
I've been close to many of the older people in my ward. Some of which have gone, others can hardly make it out of their home. I love them and I can't help it. They're my best friends and they all tell me they claim me as their grandchild.
I don't know why I'm writing all this. I guess I just need to remember the good times and cry, so I can move on. It's such a comfort to know that there is a life after death. Families can be together forever and I'm sure I'll meet with close friends from this life on the other side. So, may this be a comfort to those in need of it. It's hard to lose the ones we love. May we keep those memories of them in our hearts. May we keep that eternal perspective in our minds as we ponder these precious moments. Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to be happy. Let us learn from those who are in our lives and strive to become the greatness we see in others. May we learn from the older generation and come close to them, as they are our history.
#Grandpa #MarlowSchow #Memories #TakeBackTime #FourYears #BFF #Death #Broken #HardWorker #Amanda #CannedFruit #Craftsman #Intuition #Remember #Comfort #LifeAfterDeath #FamiliesAreForever #Comfort #EternalPerspective
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