Every year on my birthday I get a little teary eyed. You see, on my 18th birthday my entire family went to dinner to celebrate. Parents, Aunt, Uncle, Gramma, Grampa, Cousin. You see we aren't a big family, but we only come together about once every month or two to celebrate something. On my 18th birthday I of course recieved presents, but there was one in particular that was special.
My grandfather gave me his mother's wedding ring. He said that she had instructed him to give it to his first granddaughter (me) on her 21st birthday. For some reason, he said he had to give it to me early.
Just a side note about this ring. It's not big and gaudy. It's not monstrous and shiny. It's simple. It's a platinum band with five tasteful diamonds set flush into the setting. It's perfect. I can honestly say that if I were to design a ring, I think I would design something that looks extremely like this one.
So back to that night. We finished up dinner. We all headed on our way. That was a Sunday night. On Wednesday night I went out with some friends to celebrate being 18 and when I came home on Thursday morning I found out that my grandfather had passed away.
The way I understand it is that my Grampa had gone to the hospital for some sort of normal tests and on Wednesday evening he sent my Gramma home and told her that he'd see her in the morning and not to worry. He'd had her cancel an eye surgery he was supposed to have and was really not happy about all of the tests that were being run on him. To me it seems that his final decision was to send everyone home so that no one was worried and he went to the big golf course in the sky that evening to play endless rounds with the Big Man.
It's really hard for me to think that he knew he was dying and he didn't seem scared or alarmed in any way. He was very matter-of-fact about everything. He had given me the ring because he didn't think he'd make it to see me turn 21. He had even sent my Gramma home because he didn't want her to worry about him being in the hospital.
I miss his kind heart. I miss the sound of him shuffling his feet in the kitchen. I miss the whistle of his hearing aids. I miss his general addiction to ice cream and cookies. I miss how he always told he loved me and how proud of me he was. I miss his hugs and the way that he always wore suspenders and carried a hankercheif. I miss his smell.
So here it is, my birthday again. And we'll all be at that same restaraunt where we were 8 years ago. The family has changed a bit since then (we've added a few great men to the mix) but Grampa's 5 girls are all still around and as Austin said "we're doing just fine."
2 comments:
Thanks for getting me all teary-eyed first thing this morning missy! What a wonderful memory of your grandfather, thank you for sharing. My grandmother was told she only has a few years left and she's not scared at all either. She says she's done everything she wanted in life, has watched her children and grandchildren grow, and that death is a natural part of life and one shouldn't be afraid. Her words mean a lot to me and remind me to live to the fullest and remember the things that are important. Happy birthday! I hope you have a great time celebrating!!
Kipp..this gave me goosebumps..Thanks for sharing :)
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