And Now We Are 26

Today is my birthday. While the 27th is a recurring theme of life highlights for me, sometimes my birthday has tragedy hovering around it. One of my dad's best friends died on my 12th birthday. Come to think of it, I think he was... 26. Three years ago, I was in the hospital, broken and in shock. Today, we are only two weeks worth of raw from the loss of Grandpa. Seeing my birthday card signed only by Grandma was a sock in the ribs and has left me with an ache in my spirit.
26. Young. Maybe even more awkward of an age than 16. Not young adult. Not adult adult. It seems like 25-30 is the limbo of youth. So much left but so much lived. Not the beginning, middle or end. Maybe that's why I'm half-heartedly wallowing in my rut. Something must be done.

The Following Monday

This day marks the end of one of worst weeks of my life. I have a handful of those in my past: post-Billy's dad, post-Missy's dad, post-almost dying x 2, post-the Missy fallout. This one tops the list for me. It has been a whirlwind of family, flowers, food... and deep deep pain.
I haven't been sleeping. I am exhausted. I look like hell. And I still feel strangely empty and lost. And confused. The funeral was... indescribable. I saw Charles after eight years. I vaguely reconciled with Faith after two years of hate. The potential for reconciliation with Emily is on the horizon. Katherine apologized for being an absentee aunt. Regrets abounded. Taking family for granted was a recurring theme of regret. My daughter has upped her level of "challenging toddler" this week and I am just too raw to deal properly.
What are the stages of grief? Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. I think I've felt all but acceptance simultaneously throughout these seven earth-shattering days. The markings of today are certainly not what I would have guessed one week ago. Right now I am confused by all the family that have made themselves available, Blue's Clues is on in the background, I'm exhausted beyond measure, and Grandpa is gone. None of these things were even a thought last Monday.
Glimpses of him keeping popping in my head and I want to hug him. I want to see him smile while telling the same wry joke to someone new. I want to see the way he cocked his head and smiled when he didn't hear what you said but genuinely wanted to know. I want to have a family dinner at Stockman's that he would insist to pay for no matter who's idea it was to go out. I want so many things I can never have again.

I Miss You

Grandpa died yesterday.
I have been obscenely blessed throughout life. I was born in a little town that housed my parents and both full sets of grandparents no more than ten minutes away. In the nearly 26 years I have been alive, I have only lived five of them away from my hometown. And I've never lived more than two hours away. In high school, I always half-heartedly joined in the griping about the nothing-to-do-one-horse-town life and wanting to get away to anywhere else. But in all honesty, I didn't really mean it. Even in adulthood, Billy and I have exclaimed "Why do we live here?!?" and "There's no way we can live here forever!" But even at that, we wouldn't move far if we moved at all. 30-60 miles at most. Because this life is a blessed life. One that has what so many others don't: The close-knit family. Roots- real roots. My maternal grandparents and an uncle live next door. My parents are four minutes away and are our sole babysitters.
Ever since I found out he was gone, every memory of Grandpa has been firing off in my head like fireworks. Thus, I feels like my life is flashing before my eyes. It's so strange and so painful.
I miss you, Grandpa. So much. I had four perfect places in my heart for my grandparents and now there is an aching hole where you are supposed to be. I love you.