That morning, I was awakened by a throbbing, pounding, pulsing, jackhammer-to-the-brain kind of headache. Never before had a headache pulled me out of a deep sleep. It took about two hours, but I was able to fall back asleep.
I guess at this point, I should tell you that I knew my grandfather was sick. I knew he was in the hospital. I knew his health was on a downward slope. However, my father had told my sister to go on her belated birthday, overnight trip with her hubby. My grandfather even told my sister to make sure her hubby had a beer for him! It didn't seem like he would pass away less than 24 hours later. Surely, we would have been asked to come to the hospital... to say our good-byes. It seemed that there was still time left on his clock.
When I woke up, I called my sister. She said my dad had texted her AND her hubby earlier that morning, but that they were sleeping. She said that if it was bad, I would have gotten a call too. That made sense, right? But still... something seemed off. So I called my mom. I knew before she even confirmed it.
I said "Pop-Pop died... didn't he?" She said "Yes. I'm so sorry, baby."
Shock set in. All I could absorb was this overwhelming feeling of absence. Something had left me... something was missing. I didn't know what to do with myself. I really mean it... I didn't know if I should sit or stand, so I alternated. I didn't know if I should call someone or keep to myself. I didn't know what came next.
When I called my hubby, who was at a work-related function, I lost it. When I had to say "My grandfather died.", the tears began. The floodgates were opened and I felt like I was drowning in my tears. I was gulping for air. I felt weights on my ankles pulling me under.
Memories rushed towards me. Pop-Pop, teaching me how to ride a bike. Pop-Pop, helping me fish. Pop-Pop, hugging me on my wedding day. Pop-Pop, holding my newborn daughter while she smiled for the first time. He was everywhere. He was part of everything. He was part of me.
And then I realized that I would never hear him refer to me as his "Nicker Nik" ever again. I would never see him smile. He had a great smile... it was infectious. He could make the grinch's heart grow with that smile. I would never be on the receiving end of one of his big bear hugs ever again. He was gone.
This amazing human being has been gone for three months now. I have been fumbling through this new territory... this Pop-Pop-less world. There are times where the tears just come and I can't push them away. Everyday, I think of him and miss him. I see things that remind me of him and I'll think about how he'll never see them again.
A friend of mine said "Oh, I didn't realize that this would have affected you so much. I mean, it was just a grandparent." I couldn't believe she said that. That floored me. I was speechless. Afterall, he was so much more than JUST a grandparent. Growing up, we lived with my grandparents. I saw them everyday as a kid. Every play, game and recital, he was there. Every birthday, holiday, and special occasion, he was there.
I loved him. I LOVE him. THAT explains my grief. And THAT is good enough of an explanation.
For some reason, I had held onto the money that my grandmother and him had sent me for Christmas. This would be my last gift from him. I needed to make it last. I decided on a lasting tribute to him.
My grandfather had been in the Navy. He served in WWII and the Korean War. He was proud of his service to our country.
I decided on a nautical star. This way, I would be honoring his naval service. Also, I would have a star that would represent him... watching over me, protecting me... from the heavens... much like he did in life.
