Goodbye Grandad

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Instagram, or even read my blog regularly will know last month my Grandad passed away. It’s actually a month today and I’m only just beginning to process it all. I’m only just beginning to realise that he’s gone. To help with my grieving process I wanted to dedicate a post to him today.  

He was only in hospital and “ill” to us for exactly two weeks. That’s an incredibly short space of time especially in December when everyone is so busy and time seems to move much faster than usual. My dad had been worried about him for a few months but my Grandad had insisted to everyone he was fine. He then had a fall and my mum had him taken into hospital. After a lot of tests, and only on the Sunday before he passed away was the worst confirmed that he had terminal cancer, but even then we didn’t expect him to be gone by Wednesday. My dad sat by his bed from Monday until early hours of Wednesday morning, and it wasn’t until my dad left to get some sleep that my Grandfather let go. Although it broke my dad to know he wasn’t there, I think it’s what my grandad wanted.. my granny had done the very same thing when she died many years ago.  

I think my Grandad was ill for a lot longer than he let on, and I think he knew that. But having watched my Granny under go treatment for cancer and waste away, he didn’t want that. But it also meant for us we didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.. not so he could hear anyway. His funeral was the following Tuesday, the day before Christmas eve. I have never been to a funeral before and I don’t think I was mentally prepared. I was heart broken and cried all the way through the service (except when my sister sang the wrong words in the hymn, then I laughed). I cried on everyone who hugged me and I cried at the burial. I cried a lot over the course of the week too, even though it has been years since I was really close to him. At the end of the day, he was my Grandad and all my dad had left in his family as his mother, sister and brother have also gone. Knowing how much my dad was hurting hurt me more than anything.  

What I take away from it all was that my Grandfather was a legend. Growing up he was a huge part of my life, even after my grandmother died. He was always at our house telling tales, and made up stories. He definitely had the gift of the gab and you could never meet anyone as charming of him. A real ladies man, like my father and my nephew. It definitely runs down his line. My favourite story was that once he sold a pram to a woman who wasn’t even pregnant! He was so life loving, and always up for a laugh. While my granny was alive seemingly they threw amazing parties, and they loved to dress up. He was also a very proud man, and very brave. He saw so much sadness in his life but he kept going. No one made me laugh as much as my Grandad.. My very first memory is at his house the day my sister was born, he was looking after my with my Granny and we played in the garden. I feel blessed to have wonderfully fond memories of him from when I was growing up.  

What saddens me the most is that my own daughter will not remember knowing this wonderful man.. I know deep down it’s inevitable as I don’t remember any of my great grandparents although some were around when I was small. However I will pass down stories about him to her and tell the tall tales he used to tell my sister and I. He loved my sister and I so much, he loved my daughter and nephew so much, but most of all, he loved my dad. They often bashed heads but they loved each other.. and I think I grieve more for my dad, knowing he lost his mother and now his father and I’m unable to imagine what that would be like.  

I miss you every day Grandad, I still feel you left us too soon.