My grandfather passed away on December 10, 2011 at 3:25 pm. He has been in a rehabilitation home since 2000 after having a stroke. As the years went on he had several more strokes, heart attacks and other cardiac issues as well as dementia and Alzheimer's disease. He finally succumbed to death due to cardiopulmonary failure.
Since I live in AZ and my mom lives in CA, there wasn't a whole lot I could do from here to support her so I offered to help with the planning of the funeral. I helped make the program, downloaded the music she wanted, and pulled together some pictures for the slide show she wanted to play. It was rough but I had plenty of time to do it because it turns out that a lot of Traditionalists (those born between 1927-1945, the Baby Boomers parents') are dying. The Riverside National Cemetery people told us they are performing about four funerals per hour with the majority of people from that era. That means that it was two weeks from the time Papa died until the time we could actually bury him. Lots of time to reflect, cry, and (thankfully) get everything done.
My mom found a poem that Papa had copied from somewhere and he had handwritten his own statement down at the bottom sometime between 1997-1999. Evidently, he was thinking of his own passing and wrote these words under the poem, entitled "I'm Free."
I felt very strongly that the poem should be read and that his own words should be included. I asked my mom if it was ok if I read it. I really wasn't sure I was going to be able to stand up in front of all our family and do it since I'm such a crybaby but something was telling me I needed to do it. The following is a transcript (slightly changed live, I'm sure) of what I said:
I have so many memories of my grandfather while growing up since we saw him & my Nanny as often as possible. My grandfather called me Punkin. I remember one time around 4th of July, we drove in his pickup truck to his friend's firework stand a couple of miles away. I didn't wear a seat belt (we could do that back then) and I cut my leg. Papa used his handkerchief to wipe the blood off my leg.
He had a wicked sense of humor and as has been said, he was quite ornery. But he was a kind, big-hearted, lovable man who loved his family more than anything. My grandmother was his true love and I used to get so embarrassed when he'd punch her bottom - as any teenager would. She would blush, smile, and slap his hand away telling him to stop but I think she didn't mind as much as she wants us to believe. They are definitely an inspiration for marriage and family for me.
It was very hard for Papa when Nanny died in 1997. He missed her greatly. I guess he was thinking about his own death one day when he found this poem titled I'm Free because he wrote the following sentence at the bottom: (read Papa's words).
(Read I' m Free)
I know that my Nanny and Papa are together in heaven and that they are happy, together again.
Now, I'm not going to lie and say I made it through without crying because we all know that's not true. I did blubber my through without too much incoherency, though. Several people came up to me and said that I did a great job which makes me very proud and happy that I could share a few memories of my grandfather and his own words. May he rest in peace and be with the love of his life, my Nanny, forever happy, together again.
~with much love,
always
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