this is long, i felt like venting, don't bother reading...
my granny is getting married.
she is 86 this year.
she was married to my grandfather for like a bajillion years, or right at 50. my grandfater died in 1999, one month shy of turning 90. he was a bad ass dude. he was born with polio. never could walk normal. was on a cane by the time he was my age, walker in his 40's, and a wheelchair by the time I was born. he was 70 when i was born, and was still working till I was 7 or 8, despite his polio/handicap. he ran a barber college in memphis, a throwback to the oldschool babershops. he was well respected. once, after he died, i was in the mall that i worked in, and i was talking to one of the old dudes who was a "mall walker", i talked to this guy, and many of the walker people daily. i told him about my grandpa, and he knew him. other old people, knew him. they remembered his barber school bringing the students down to give the military guys free haircuts. because my grandfater spent a lot of time in hospitals as a child, he gave back by giving hospitalized kids free haircuts. he, despite his handicapped, worked hard his whole life. legs be damned. things got worse for him in his 70's. bad infections took over his legs. they were usually a shade of purple, and had mass infections covering them. but it didnt stop him. i spent a lot of time, hell, most of my time living with my grandparents growing up. me and my grandfater watched the fuck out of Cubbies baseball, and U of Memphis basketball. my grandmother worked at a grocery store to help make ends meet, and my grandfather took care of all the cooking and house cleaning. not a day went by that he didn't wake up and cook a full course breakfast. not a day went by that he didnt, from his wheelchair, sweep and mop the kitchen. not a day went by that he didn't have dinner cooking when i got home from school, and my grandmother got home from work. after he was in his mid 80's, it got even worse, cancer hit him hard, and just destroyed his body. but, he was strong as fuck. he was a bad ass son of a bitch. he didn't let being handicapped slow him down, and he wasn't going to let cancer. only cancer is stronger than will. over the last few years of his life, i stopped living with my grandparents. i was 15, and was too cool to hang out there all the time. i did though, go ovefr there every week. every sunday, from the time i was born, till he died, we all went over there on sundays, me, my mom, bro/sis, cousins, aunties... we ate, played basketball, played in the street. i remember everything about the day he died like it was yesterday. at this point he was bad off, so bad he couldn't get out of bed unless he had to. i would go visit, and just sit by the bed and watch sports with him. he most of the time had no clue what was actually going on. it was like he was lost in another time. at night, he would have panic attacks and wake up crying for someone in the hall. my mom figures that he was, since he was bed ridden, having flashbacks to when he was in the hospital as a kid. who knows. but the day he died, was fittingly on a sunday. i woke up, and drove to my grandmothers house for sunday lunch like i had a thousand times before. when i got there, everyone was somber. my mom said my grandfather was real sick, and my grandmother was in there with him. when she came out, he was dead. how fucking fitting is that... it's good that everyone was there. i felt like a douchebag though... just 2 days prior I was over there, and it was Friday night, and I stopped by since I was i the 'hood. i went in, and he was actually in great spirits and good mental state. i stayed for a few minutes, and then left. i should have stayed longer. i should have stayed longer. i saw him dead, "tried" like most morons do when someone dies to talk to him, in hopes he would wake up, went out on the porch and cried till my eyes bled, and went home and did the same thing for the rest of the day.
in the 19 years i knew my grandfather, he was, and is, my hero. i never ONCE heard him complain about being handicapped. i never once saw him let it get the best of him. till the time that cancer stopped him, he never let not having the use of his legs get him down.
my grandparents, even though they worked hard their whole lives, had nothing. my grandmother had to refinance her house, that had 20 years of equity in it, to pay for his medical treatments. she blew through that money quickly. when my grandfather died, she not only lost him, but her home. she lost her fucking home to pay for his medical treatment. what kind of fucking country do we live in? you can work your whole life and have nothing? your WHOLE fucking life. that's heartbreaking.
i miss that house. i moved so much as a kid, getting thrown out of one house, getting evicted from another, over and over and over and over... my grandmothers house was a constant. it was always there. it was always warm, and there was always food... and love.
my grandmother is a great woman. she's 86, and still going strong. when he died, and the house was gone, she bought a small trailer and put it on my uncles land. she deserves to be back in that house. but, that's old news. my grandmother has always been "cool". she's never judged me or anyone for their hair, or tattoos, or what I do or don't do. she may not get it, but she's always been cool about it. she never judged my bro/sis for having kids out of wedlock (which sounds weird to say, but you know how old people are....)
the guy she is marrying, is a guy she knew in grade school. they didnt see each other for over 60 years. and now, somehow, they ran into each other, and are getting married... I think it's weird, but sweet.
this new guy, his name is authur, my grandfather was earnest authur, or E.A. for short.
the university of memphis, is in the sweet 16 this year, and they have a good shot at making it to the final four. my grandfather would have loved it. he would have loved watching sammy sosa hit the homers in 98-99 (he was kind of out of it at that point) he would have flipped out when steve bartman caught that ball in the 2003 playoffs. he would have, most importantly, been proud of me. not for some lame ass reason like being in the military, or going to war... those are easy things for people to be proud of you for (even though I argue the pride validity of Iraq... but that's neither here nor there), but he would have been proud of me for just being a good fucking person, and intelligent person, and most importantly, a grandson who makes it a point to try and call his grandmother somewhat often.
he would love to see my nieces and nephews... he would love my nephew michael... hell, how could you not.
when I go home, I always say that I want to visit the cemetary... but... I don't. In the 7 years he has been dead, I have, other than the funeral, been once.
I don't like going... it's not a good feeling. it sucks. that has so far been my only exp with REAL close death (outside of war...), and it was rough.
here I am in Alexandria, my cousin is in the military too, we are all grown up, and those Sunday lunches are rare. When I go home... we have them, but they are rare.
the list of people in this world who I care to impress is very fucking small. at the end of the day, I'd like my mom and dad to be proud of me. i'd like my grandmother to be proud of me (and I know it would take a lot for her to do otherwise...) but at the top of that list, is my grandfather. i am not sure if there is a heaven or any of that shit. im not sure there is a god. and i am sure as sin not a "christian"... maybe there is a heaven, and he is looking down, and he is proud. maybe reincarnation is where it's at, and my newphew is my grandfather reincarnate... who knows... maybe... we... just... die... and I have to assume what he would or wouldn't think.
whenever i am my normal hardass self around my mom.. she always plays the "i know how you are with your grandparents" card... trust me... my family is my one weakness... I am still a hardass
I'd give my left nut to crack open a beer, eat some popcorn, and watch Memphis play this week with my grandfather... and it feels good to know he would want to buy the beer...
my granny is getting married.
she is 86 this year.
she was married to my grandfather for like a bajillion years, or right at 50. my grandfater died in 1999, one month shy of turning 90. he was a bad ass dude. he was born with polio. never could walk normal. was on a cane by the time he was my age, walker in his 40's, and a wheelchair by the time I was born. he was 70 when i was born, and was still working till I was 7 or 8, despite his polio/handicap. he ran a barber college in memphis, a throwback to the oldschool babershops. he was well respected. once, after he died, i was in the mall that i worked in, and i was talking to one of the old dudes who was a "mall walker", i talked to this guy, and many of the walker people daily. i told him about my grandpa, and he knew him. other old people, knew him. they remembered his barber school bringing the students down to give the military guys free haircuts. because my grandfater spent a lot of time in hospitals as a child, he gave back by giving hospitalized kids free haircuts. he, despite his handicapped, worked hard his whole life. legs be damned. things got worse for him in his 70's. bad infections took over his legs. they were usually a shade of purple, and had mass infections covering them. but it didnt stop him. i spent a lot of time, hell, most of my time living with my grandparents growing up. me and my grandfater watched the fuck out of Cubbies baseball, and U of Memphis basketball. my grandmother worked at a grocery store to help make ends meet, and my grandfather took care of all the cooking and house cleaning. not a day went by that he didn't wake up and cook a full course breakfast. not a day went by that he didnt, from his wheelchair, sweep and mop the kitchen. not a day went by that he didn't have dinner cooking when i got home from school, and my grandmother got home from work. after he was in his mid 80's, it got even worse, cancer hit him hard, and just destroyed his body. but, he was strong as fuck. he was a bad ass son of a bitch. he didn't let being handicapped slow him down, and he wasn't going to let cancer. only cancer is stronger than will. over the last few years of his life, i stopped living with my grandparents. i was 15, and was too cool to hang out there all the time. i did though, go ovefr there every week. every sunday, from the time i was born, till he died, we all went over there on sundays, me, my mom, bro/sis, cousins, aunties... we ate, played basketball, played in the street. i remember everything about the day he died like it was yesterday. at this point he was bad off, so bad he couldn't get out of bed unless he had to. i would go visit, and just sit by the bed and watch sports with him. he most of the time had no clue what was actually going on. it was like he was lost in another time. at night, he would have panic attacks and wake up crying for someone in the hall. my mom figures that he was, since he was bed ridden, having flashbacks to when he was in the hospital as a kid. who knows. but the day he died, was fittingly on a sunday. i woke up, and drove to my grandmothers house for sunday lunch like i had a thousand times before. when i got there, everyone was somber. my mom said my grandfather was real sick, and my grandmother was in there with him. when she came out, he was dead. how fucking fitting is that... it's good that everyone was there. i felt like a douchebag though... just 2 days prior I was over there, and it was Friday night, and I stopped by since I was i the 'hood. i went in, and he was actually in great spirits and good mental state. i stayed for a few minutes, and then left. i should have stayed longer. i should have stayed longer. i saw him dead, "tried" like most morons do when someone dies to talk to him, in hopes he would wake up, went out on the porch and cried till my eyes bled, and went home and did the same thing for the rest of the day.
in the 19 years i knew my grandfather, he was, and is, my hero. i never ONCE heard him complain about being handicapped. i never once saw him let it get the best of him. till the time that cancer stopped him, he never let not having the use of his legs get him down.
my grandparents, even though they worked hard their whole lives, had nothing. my grandmother had to refinance her house, that had 20 years of equity in it, to pay for his medical treatments. she blew through that money quickly. when my grandfather died, she not only lost him, but her home. she lost her fucking home to pay for his medical treatment. what kind of fucking country do we live in? you can work your whole life and have nothing? your WHOLE fucking life. that's heartbreaking.
i miss that house. i moved so much as a kid, getting thrown out of one house, getting evicted from another, over and over and over and over... my grandmothers house was a constant. it was always there. it was always warm, and there was always food... and love.
my grandmother is a great woman. she's 86, and still going strong. when he died, and the house was gone, she bought a small trailer and put it on my uncles land. she deserves to be back in that house. but, that's old news. my grandmother has always been "cool". she's never judged me or anyone for their hair, or tattoos, or what I do or don't do. she may not get it, but she's always been cool about it. she never judged my bro/sis for having kids out of wedlock (which sounds weird to say, but you know how old people are....)
the guy she is marrying, is a guy she knew in grade school. they didnt see each other for over 60 years. and now, somehow, they ran into each other, and are getting married... I think it's weird, but sweet.
this new guy, his name is authur, my grandfather was earnest authur, or E.A. for short.
the university of memphis, is in the sweet 16 this year, and they have a good shot at making it to the final four. my grandfather would have loved it. he would have loved watching sammy sosa hit the homers in 98-99 (he was kind of out of it at that point) he would have flipped out when steve bartman caught that ball in the 2003 playoffs. he would have, most importantly, been proud of me. not for some lame ass reason like being in the military, or going to war... those are easy things for people to be proud of you for (even though I argue the pride validity of Iraq... but that's neither here nor there), but he would have been proud of me for just being a good fucking person, and intelligent person, and most importantly, a grandson who makes it a point to try and call his grandmother somewhat often.
he would love to see my nieces and nephews... he would love my nephew michael... hell, how could you not.
when I go home, I always say that I want to visit the cemetary... but... I don't. In the 7 years he has been dead, I have, other than the funeral, been once.
I don't like going... it's not a good feeling. it sucks. that has so far been my only exp with REAL close death (outside of war...), and it was rough.
here I am in Alexandria, my cousin is in the military too, we are all grown up, and those Sunday lunches are rare. When I go home... we have them, but they are rare.
the list of people in this world who I care to impress is very fucking small. at the end of the day, I'd like my mom and dad to be proud of me. i'd like my grandmother to be proud of me (and I know it would take a lot for her to do otherwise...) but at the top of that list, is my grandfather. i am not sure if there is a heaven or any of that shit. im not sure there is a god. and i am sure as sin not a "christian"... maybe there is a heaven, and he is looking down, and he is proud. maybe reincarnation is where it's at, and my newphew is my grandfather reincarnate... who knows... maybe... we... just... die... and I have to assume what he would or wouldn't think.
whenever i am my normal hardass self around my mom.. she always plays the "i know how you are with your grandparents" card... trust me... my family is my one weakness... I am still a hardass
I'd give my left nut to crack open a beer, eat some popcorn, and watch Memphis play this week with my grandfather... and it feels good to know he would want to buy the beer...