Sunday, February 13, 2011

Almost Three Years, and I Am Not Really Handling It

Dear Dad,

Instead of a letter from Cameron, this one is from me.

I never really used this blog the way I thought I would, but with what I have been dealing with lately, this is the perfect place to write what I need to say.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about your death. It was sudden and shocking, and there was truly no part of me that saw it coming. But now, as I look back with 20/20 hindsight, I find myself regretting things I know I didn't have any control over. As the 8th grade DC Trip for my school's students approaches, I am reminded once again of how I was on that trip, three years ago, and what I did not know then was that it was just a few weeks before you would die.

When our journey took us to New York City, and you did not join Mom, Auntie Pat, Patti, and Alyssa on their jaunt into the City to meet me for dinner, I admit I felt a tad hurt, but I understood. The weather was horrible and you never really liked the City that much anyway. I was a mere eight miles or so from you, and I did not see you. And in less than a month you were gone. There is a part of me who wants to go back to that night, to skip Phantom of the Opera and take a ride in the rain over to your house. I would just sit on the couch with you and tell you that I love you, that I always loved you, and that I forgave you for what I am about to describe next.

The last time I did see you face-to-face, before the funeral home of course, we had an argument at the airport in San Jose. It was the last time you visited California. You were stressing out over who would be picking you and Mom up at the airport in New Jersey. You were getting ridiculous and I pretty much told you so. I even asked you, "Do you want the last time your grandson sees you (I meant "in a long while") to be a memory of us arguing?" or something like that.

We got past that and we were fine, you and me. But we were fine over the phone and across the miles. I never got the chance to hug you or look into your eyes again.

I really can't seem to get past that. I can't seem to let go of the regret and longing for us to have had a chance to just be okay in person. I know it was fine. I know you'd say it was nothing, really. But I also did not call you in the hospital when you were in after the heart valve transplant. "I'll call him when he gets home, since he needs his rest," I told Mom. Couldn't I have just called you and told you I love you? I had spoken to you on the Sunday -- Easter Sunday -- but you were gone before Thursday and I never had the chance to even prepare myself a little bit for the possibility that you could get pneumonia and die in the hospital.

It was never supposed to happen that way. I've led a charmed life, and stuff like that doesn't happen to me or the people I love. Does it? Things in life generally don't ruffle my feathers, but this has me beaten up, dragged across the floor, and thrown out the door. My brain can't process that this all happened to you -- to our family -- and there is nothing at all anyone can do about it.

Is there ever going to be a time when I don't feel like I've been robbed?

Monday, January 26, 2009

Dance With My Father -- Luther Vandross

Dear Granddad,

Today, Mommy snuck out of work at lunchtime (don't worry, she did not have any students) to go pick up a geocache that she had solved a puzzle for last night. When she was driving a song came on the radio that made her cry. She had forgotten all about this song. It came out a bunch of years ago, long before you went to Heaven, right around when our friend Gammy Judy's husband Doug went to Heaven. In fact, Mommy was pregnant with me, so it was about five years ago.

When the song came out, Mommy used to think that Gammy Judy's daughter Kathleen would like it, but it would be a while before she would be able to listen to it without feeling sad. Mommy used to cry a little when she would hear it, but she never thought about you being gone like you are now.

From Family History

These are the words to the song:
(from )
Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence
My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around ‘til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He’d make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said
Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me
If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
‘Cause I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again
Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how my mother cried for him
I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me
I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved
I know you don’t do it usually
But dear Lord she’s dying
To dance with my father again
Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream
So now Mommy feels a little sad. She has a little bit of a headache from crying in the car. But she picked me up from school and we went home as early as we could because her new semester of online classes starts tonight. I have to be good and not make a lot of noise so Mommy can hear all the stuff the professors are saying.

So, she's okay, and she's still doing all the stuff that makes you so proud of her. But she misses you.

I love you, Granddad. Good night and God bless.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Dear Granddad, Mommy misses you.

This is a new blog. It is being written by my Mommy, Diane Main, from my point of view. I am Cameron. I am five. Almost a year ago, my Granddad went to Heaven.

When it happened, Mommy was very sad. She didn't expect Granddad to die when he went to the hospital to have an operation on his heart. It wasn't a big operation, just a heart valve. But then he got sick in his lungs and two days later, he was in Heaven.

I miss my Granddad too. He died March 27, 2008, but in August of 2007, he and my Nanny came to California to visit us.

I do a lot of things that remind my Mommy of Granddad. I sit with my legs crossed, and I have done this ever since I was REALLY little. I also make up funny songs and new words to make Mommy laugh.

Here is a picture of me and Granddad from August of 2007:
From Cameron with Nanny and Granddad

I will tell you how we're doing from time to time. Today, Mommy thought about Granddad a little and I think it made her sad.