Monday, March 16, 2009

What a Wonderful World

The saddest day of my life was the day that I watched my grandfather get buried. After a year long battle with cancer, which he fought strongly, he lost the battle. My grandfather was and will always be, my best friend. There was no one else in my entire life that I loved and connected with as deeply as I did with my grandfather. He always did truly believe in me. The saddest thing was that when he became diagnosed with cancer, i disappeared. 

It as hard for me to cope with. I didn't want to see the man I loved more than anyone looking like a skeleton with skin. I didn't feel as bad because, he also didn't want me to see him that way. We communicated through letters I would write and give to my mom. After he read the letters he'd give my mom messages to give back to me.

When he died we did what you normally do by having a viewing and a funeral both which were too emotional (as well as spectacular) that words wouldn't do justice. I will say my grandfather knew how to go out with a bang, and this bang involved making sure there was a dixieland band playing up-beat songs like "When the Saints go Marching in."

For a kid who calls his grandfather his best friend, I was the type of best friend that you drop. Not only did I not see my grandfather on his last year of life, after the funeral I never once took the time to visit his grave.

Today, I met with a former teacher in Bryn Mawr to work on a script. I wasn't super familiar with the area so I relied on my GPS to get me home. The way it took me took me a way I wasn't very familiar with. I didn't know the road that I was on at all, until suddenly... I realized that I knew the road, infact my grandfather was buried on a graveyard on this very road. As I passed it I made a split second decision and parked my car in the parking lot. 

I walked around the graveyard aimlessly... I vaguely remembered where his grave was but, it had been almost 8 years since his passing. Suddenly I saw a flock of birds, it was going off on a whim but I walked towards the birds and they all flew away but I suppose you can guess the grave in which they were sitting at.

I would be lying if I said I didn't tear up while at the grave. I'd also be lying if I said that I was crying uncontrollably. I suppose that the tears could only be described as relief. For once I felt truly at peace with myself after 9 years of falling in and out of depression.

I know that this is quite the serious Dorktower, I promise I'll return with more sex and pop culture next week. 

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