Tribute to my Grandpa

Some people cry when they mourn. Some people hold it in and yell at everyone cuz they don't know how to deal with it. Some people talk about it with friends/family. I write cuz that’s how I express myself best. My grandfather died this morning. I got word at work. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, and it fucking sucks cuz I’m down here in Yonkers, when I should be upstate with my family. Terrible storm tonight so I could not go back; probably going home tomorrow. Anyway, my grampa was the man. He was a funny ass dude. I lived with him in the summer when I worked in Old Forge, and used to go down to see him in Florida once a year. He was a die-hard red sox fan and he would do anything for family. He was a real honest, stand-up guy. He used to be real religious...until my gramma died suddenly like 6 years ago. Since then he pretty much swore off God.

He was really sick, he had leukemia and it was pretty much fucking him up. He actually beat it once, was cancer free for a few months but then it came back stronger and his body just couldn’t take it. My goal for the last 2 weeks was to come home this weekend and say my goodbyes. My mom said not to bother, I guess he was so fucked up he couldn’t talk or recognize anybody and he looked like a skeleton. Unfortunately, literally minutes before I was heading back...I got word he passed. So I will never get a chance to tell him how much he meant to me.

It’s kind of good I didn’t get to see him in a way. I didn’t wanna remember him the way he was his final weeks. I wanna remember the guy who used to take me on nature walks. One time I found some piece of tree trunk that I thought looked like deer antlers. I picked it up and gave it to him. It was a useless piece of garbage but he kept it. He fucking put that piece of wood in front of his camp in his garden....and it’s STILL THERE. It was the first thing you saw when you pulled in his driveway. He kept it there cuz I gave it to him. I gave it to him 23 fucking years ago and he still had it. My uncle, his son, took out a credit card in my dead grammas’ name. Ran up an $8000 bill or some shit, and then bailed out on paying it off. My grampa had to pay that bill off...and he still loved my uncle like nothing ever happened. What pisses me off the most is how come you never tell people how much they mean to you until it is too late?? At funerals people say how much they love the deceased...but did they ever actually tell the person? It’s sad, really. It puts things in perspective. I always wanna tell people how much they mean to me from now on. He is my last grandparent, I have none left. Richard Anderson, Rest in Peace. You were a great man that fought valiantly against a deadly disease. Just wish I got a chance to say goodbye. You are reunited with your wife and son. I hope to see you again, but not too soon. I still have some shit to take care of down here.