11 years ago today, I woke up to a scream. It was my older sister’s scream. My eyes opened suddenly and I saw flashing lights outside my window. It was still dark. I looked out my window. They were next door. At my grandparents’ house. I think I knew then. But I went to the living room and my mom confirmed. My Grandpa had passed away, cancer.
This year I seem to be having a harder time with it than in previous years. I think I know why.
I’m starting to forget him. And I’m so mad at myself for it. I don’t even want to admit that.
My last few memories of him were when he was sick or he was angry. I have a few happy memories but there’s only so much I can remember from before age 9.
He was with my Grandma for over 50 years. That’s quite an accomplishment. I can only hope that I will be that lucky.
I miss my Grandpa.