My grandfather died yesterday. Yesterday was Memorial day.
I learned this news this morning (the day after Memorial day, of course.) while eating breakfast. My mom woke me up and told me that my father wanted to talk with me. I was worried, thinking of all the things I have done recently he might not approve of. My guesses went from him finding out about my obsession with Harry Potter to his reading and disliking something on my Bucket List (there are quite a few things on there to which he would object to, i'm sure.). Going downstairs, I heard him complaining to my mother about his teeth, whilst I made myself some cinnamon toast. Once I had sat down with my toast and mug of coffee, he began shifting around nearby papers and napkins, which alerted me to the fact that he was about to have a heart to heart with me on something. I was only slightly worried about being found out for something once I saw the look on his face. My little sister, Hayley, was sitting next to me eating her breakfast. As soon as he had told us the news, she was clearly struggling to hold in her tears. The very first thing that she asked was, "How did he die?" and that was obviously the very question my dad would rather not answer. "Well, Hayley, my dad was getting quite old..." Then my sister spouted off about twenty more questions, not unusual for a talkative seven-year-old, and my parents promptly answered them.
After he had enough with Q and A with my sister, my dad motioned to me to follow him outside. My sudden fear of being caught at something flared up again, but died down once he pulled out some chairs and went into more detail about what happened yesterday. My mother had come outside too, and both she and he were getting red eyed and emotional. Apparently, my grandfather didn't die... naturally. They were going on about how awful this was, and why they didn't want to tell Hayley, and all this stuff. I was sitting calmly in my chair, not a tear or emotion in sight. My dad and my mom did very poor jobs at looking in my face for any trace of sadness or tears or anything. Now i'm sure they think i'm a freak, haha.
Truth be told, while I loved my grandfather dearly, I am, in fact, not sad that he has passed away. It's unfortunate, but I'm not shaken. It's a bit odd that I'm not sad. I am surprised at my lack of emotion, I'll admit. Oh well. No tears for the dead today. The cool thing is that he died on Memorial day, which I think is really awesome. He, my grandfather, wanted to be cremated though, which I don't think is awesome. I'm actually kind of peeved at him because he had said that he didn't want a funeral service, so we aren't going to be having one. The one time I can attend a funeral and be a legitimate be a mourner, someone who really knew the person, and he doesn't want one! ARGH!
I probably shouldn't be talking about the deceased in that light, but whatever. It's still true. I want to throw him a funeral and then go to it.
Well, no other thoughts to share with you that I feel I can share with you.
COMMENTS ARE BETTER THAN DYING (Though, I wouldn't exactly know...)
Love,
Maria
P.s. I'll have my first book review up shortly. I've been putting off writing it, but I'll have it for you all soon, I promise.
No comments:
Post a Comment