Happy Birthday to Her Royal Heinie
While I’m a little (okay, a lot) young to be a grandma, I always thought of A’s granddaughter as mine, too, and he and I talked about how we’d meet one day, and I’d tell her all my jokes, because, as funny as he was, A couldn’t tell regular jokes. She’s 3 years old today. I bet she’s talking up a storm now.
He called me on his way down to the hospital where his daughter was being induced that day 3 years ago. He was so excited, and loved being a grandpa. He was a natural. Once, in traffic, he had a bit of road peevishness (not rage, really), and he hollered something about "Get moving, Grandpa!" I looked at him and grinned. I didn’t even have to say a word. He said, "I guess I can’t be saying that anymore, huh?" He now has a grandson, too, born some months after he passed. They share a middle name.
Every picture he got of his granddaughter he sent me, and she was a cutie, too. Adorability ran in his family. But I have had no pictures and little news since he left, and there’s still a little bit of my heart available to break for that. It’s so complicated for those outside, and because he’s not here, for me. But we weren’t complicated. We were the easiest thing in the world.
Happy Birthday, Princess Smiley. Someone out here loves you.
I am so sorry that the news is not received more often. That has to leave an even larger hole for you. Your blog is beautiful and I am amazed at your eloquence.
It does; the loss of him nearly killed me. And then the secondary losses start rolling in and it seems as if it will never stop.
And thank you for reading here.