Solemn Days

So, high risk dictates your due date.  We will not make it to 40 weeks.  Instead, we will be induced sometime after 38 weeks which is about 2 weeks away.  At first, it caused much anxiety because we are still missing a few key items for his arrival but then excitement settled in.  We'll be meeting our son sooner than later and that make me and my body very happy.  My body is aching.  The Kid's squirms, kicks and stretches are painful.  It's not a bad thing.  After all, it's what he's supposed to be doing but oy, it hurts.  Excitement is building.

And then you have days like today where you think about the people who won't be here to greet The Kid's arrival.  People who would have beamed with pride and shed tears of happiness with you.  People that, when they held your son, would make your heart burst into a million little pieces.  People like my Grandpa.  It's makes me incredibly sad that he won't be here.  He won't be able to hold my son, his great-grandson, and beam with pride.  He won't be able to tell me how proud he is of me.  He won't be here to plant a kiss on my cheek.  Most of all, he won't be able to make me smile when I see him holding my son.

Perhaps its the rain that makes me think about all of this but, then again, I always think about that Old Man and how much it hurts to know he's not here.  The void he left me with has been there for 14 years and it still stings thinking about the day he left that void.

Dia de los Muertos

A photo of B, my Grandpa and I many, many, many years ago at Grandpa's house in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico. It's the only photo of B and I with our Grandpa. We, just like, I'm sure, several other families, have an ugly family history and while my Grandpa LOVED us, he was not so kind to our dad, the greatest dad ever. However, my parents do not badmouth the old man, though they are honest about the ugly side of the family history. They also never prohibited me from having a relationship with my Grandpa despite the cold shoulder he gave my dad. I guess I just wanted to know this old man who was guilty of such mean-spiritedness and my parents encouraged me to love my Grandpa with all that I could. I don't hate that old man but rather, I hope he made his peace with his Maker because he certainly didn't make peace with my dad which is, within itself, very sad. I wish I could say I hate him but, in all honesty, the moment he entered my life, which was when I turned 15, he treated me lovingly and kindly, just like a granddaughter who had never had a grandfather before would hope to be treated. And, just as quickly as he entered my life, he was gone. He died 6 years later and opened up the void again.

It is what it is and while I wish I would have had more with my Grandpa, I'm ok with the little time we shared because it was very well spent. And, since we are being honest, I have many of his features: the dimple in my right cheek with the birthmark directly over it, the fair skin complexion and the eyes, my goodness, the eyes. It was those eyes, that day when I saw my eyes looking back at me, that urged me to not be like my Grandpa. I vowed to be a good person, to be kind to others, have compassion, understanding for everyone despite their rough exterior. Most of all, I vowed to never pass up the opportunity to tell the people I love exactly how much I loved them, how much they meant to me and how much I valued their presence in my life. How I wish my Grandpa had done the same to all of his family. Regardless, I thank him for being a part of my life for those 6 short years.


Feliz Dia de los Muertos, Abuelito.