People say goodbye in their own special way*

27 Dec

My sister has this thing about death. She’s always postulating the most morbid thoughts. “What if one of our dogs dies?” “I don’t want to go to Nana and Pop Pop’s house after they die.” I don’t get it. It’s not that I don’t think about death, trust me I do. It’s just I don’t think it’s something you should talk about out loud. Strange? Maybe. Superstitious? Absolutely.

For Christmas we always celebrate at my maternal grandparents house. One day this tradition will end. I play with this fact in my head all the time, but I never talk about it. I figure the day will come, but it hasn’t yet. On Sunday morning before our post-Christmas Christmas I was sitting in my favorite chair at my grandparents house. It’s an old chaise, worn and tattered. Beside the chair is a long chest covered in framed pictures of all the grandkids and family memories. On the chest I noticed this weird box. Red and green velvet, kind of Christmas-y really. I opened it. Inside were all sorts of hand written letters. The one on top, an obituary my grandma had written for herself. I told my sister about it. We kind of laughed, it’s so Nana to be prepared. But it’s sad. When my sister left to pick a few things up from the store, I reopened the box.

I read the obituary. Four small hand written pages, the brief life story of my beloved Nana. It was very up to date including the town where my younger cousins only moved a few years ago. Thorough. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Simple. Sad. One thing was missing. Will Pop Pop still be alive? To be honest, I hope not. He couldn’t live without her. They’ve been friends since childhood.

So I sat in my favorite chair in a house that one day will not be the Christmas house anymore. Crying. Because I knew the pages would be published in the town newspaper one day. A day that I know will come sooner than I’m ready for. Sooner than any of us are ready for, and I will have already read them. I don’t know how I feel. I can’t take it back now. I don’t know that I want to. It just is. At least someone knows it’s there. Waiting…

*In My Veins – Andrew Belle Featuring Erin McCarley

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