Reflection
My grandfather died yesterday, something that I am having very conflicted feelings about. Back in October last year, in a post titled 'tagged' I wrote:
- My two favourite grandparents died when I was in my early teens. I was angry at God for taking them because I loved them better than the ones that were left. Since then I have got to know my surviving grandmother better, and love her dearly. I have not grown to love my grandfather as much- even though he lives in the same city I live in. I find him a very self-centered person, and find it hard to rise above that and form a relationship. I wonder if I will regret this when he is no longer here.
Well yesterday it happened, so the conflicting feelings. Do you miss someone who dies if you did not have a really good relationship with them? What is it about death that makes us think of a person only in a good way?
I don't think I regret not getting to know him better- well not yet anyways. Perhaps I will by the end of this post.
What's really strange is that, in death, I think I can understand more fully why he was the way he was.
I volunteered to make up the hand-out to give to people at the funeral. Inside, my mother had written up a brief history of my grandfather's life.
He was born in 1924 in country NSW. That very year, his father died of a heart attack. By the time he was 8, his mother had died of a brain tumour. He went to live with an aunt and uncle. This was not a happy time for him, and did not work out. His aunt and uncle put him on a train by himself to go and live in
So I can see now, why this man who I saw as self centered was like that- who would not develop that kind of attitude for self-preservation after such an unfortunate start to life?
My memories of him are not too rosy. I can remember him yelling at us as children, and as I got older conversations with him revolved around him. I found having a conversation with him very trying, and I would minimize it as much as possible. Sometimes I would deliberately try to avoid him at family gatherings.
There are several things I can thank him for:
- That he married my grandmother and had 8 children- one of whom is my Father.
- The lesson of reflection. Because of my reactions to him, I have taken a look at myself. I will try to make sure I do not become that person who people avoid and don't want to talk to.
When my youngest brother was in high school, his best friend was killed by a drunk driver while waiting at a bus-stop. I'm sure his mother did not think she would never see him again. After that happened my mother would always make the effort to say "I love you" as we left for school. It was not just hollow words, she meant it.
The last words my father said to my grandfather were "see you on Tuesday" and he replied "Ok love". The last words he said to anyone were thanking them for the wonderful friendship they had. I suppose these are the things that matter. To tell the people who matter to us how much we care for them- all the time. Because we never know.
So as I sit here crying as I write, I think do I regret not making the effort? No, because I believe we should not regret what we do or fail to do. But I will learn from it. I will tell the people who matter to me that love them. And I will make time for my family, to learn about their lives, to learn about their hopes and wishes, and to know them better.
posted by Capital Mum @ 8:18 PM
1 Comments:
I was the same when one of my grandfathers died. He and I had never gotten on, even when I was a little kid; by the time I was a teenager I hated him. When I reached my 20s I started to get on with him better, but it turns out that was because he'd started to mellow on account of getting Alzheimer's Disease... :(
So after he died I was more worried about my mother and my grandmother than I was grieving for him myself...
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