Grandparents

I started this on 2/16/2011, when my Grandpa was put on hospice. I wanted to add a picture before publishing, but clearly have never gotten around to scanning any....so here it is 5 months later. As I read through this though, I thought of my trip to Utah last weekend and listening to Grandma "Weez" and how depressed she is. She not only is getting up there in age and is unable to do the things that she once was able to do, which I think would be depressing in and of itself, she also is feeling the loneliness of Grandpa (and me) not being around. It's sad to listen to her. I wish there was more that I could do...

2/16/2011
This whole emotional saga has brought up some sharp memories of the 3 year span between my Grandma Staley passing and when my Grandpa Staley finally passed. Grandma seemed to leave so quickly, I hardly remember her being down and out. But oh do I remember the morning she left us - the first of my Grandparents. Mom came and woke me and Steve up while it was still dark outside, (probably around 5am?) to let us know. I think they waited until the other three woke up on their own before telling them. It was heart-wrenching to watch Grandpa those following months and years though. His pain was emotional - he missed her terribly and wanted nothing but to be "put in his hole next to her". Sadly those are actually the last words I remember him saying to me. I unfortunately was in the middle of nowhere, off the coast of Italy - Sardinia, to be exact - when he passed. Unable to make it back for his funeral or the last week he was around, I was very grateful that I had taken advantage of the afternoon before I left for Italy to spend with him. It was hard being away from my family through that. I was grateful that I was surrounded by my Clog America family that was supportive until I reached my (at-the-time) fiance, who held me up and emotionally supported me until I was able to make it home and have some closure, with family. Closure for Grandpa Staley was difficult for me to find. After talking things over a lot with my dad and uncle, I decided it was best for me to stay in Sardinia and not attempt to make it home for the funeral. As much as I hate funerals, they are good at offering some closure, which I never realized until this situation. I searched for that closure for some time after coming home. I think it came collectively - I watched my dad mourn, we talked, I sat in their lonely house as my mom would clean it out and organize their valuables. Eventually that closure came. I am not sure when or how, but it came and I was at peace. There is a moment mixed into that time period though that I don't share with many, because it is so close to my heart that it still brings tears to my eyes. The day I got home from Italy, we went and dedicated Grandpa's grave. They had waited for me to do that part (usually done at the burial service by those of the LDS faith, but was not done, since Grandpa's funeral was conducted by his Presbyterian Pastor...so Dad did this later on). Afterward, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to their house. I said yes, but I wanted to go alone, with just the two of them. For some reason, I didn't want all the other siblings going. We wandered through the house for a bit and then mom and I got looking through a few things in the kitchen and the back green-house/patio area. After awhile I realized that Dad had been MIA for quite some time. I found him upstairs, in his old bedroom, crying. He came down when he was ready and we went to leave. We hadn't made it halfway out of the driveway before a bit of an argument erupted. Dad wanted to know why mom had put the flower box (yes, the one that was on the side of the house, decaying) in the garbage. After mom had explained herself, Dad got even more upset, "you can't just throw that stuff away - my dad made that, with his own two hands!". Dad lost it. He is such a gentle man, with so much emotion. Watching my dad mourn not just the loss of his father at that moment, but of both of his parents, still brings a tear to my eye today. I dread the day...