Thursday, December 12, 2013


My grandfather passed away last Thursday after spending three agonizing weeks in the hospital. And while death isn't exactly a stranger to me, I've never quite felt a loss like this one.

Someone once told me that being broken up with is like someone close to you dying. I've found that's entirely, fundamentally untrue. Sure, break-ups hurt like hell. But they're nothing like death. Nothing at all. The sounds of your grandmother's sobs, of your mother's, of your aunts' - those are not things you can unhear. Death is irrevocable absence. It's perpetual silence. It's gone-ness. Where someone was, they are now no longer. And will never be again.

It's the strangest thing.

Last weekend, as my family and I gathered up the remnants of a good, rich life, I could see the passing of time. I could feel the ending of something vast. I know that nothing is permanent. I know that everything changes. I know that this too will end.

It's just that I've never been very good with endings.

Love you, Pa.

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