02.17.04 - 7:14 pm

theres a shirt in my dresser that i picked up today, and didnt put on. i set it back on top of the other shirts in the drawer and just....looked at it for a second. its just a white t shirt like any other. but this one had a purpose.

this was the shirt purchased so i could wear it to my grandmothers funeral.

i saw my grandfather on saturday. we talked about racism and police work of the 1950s. my grandfather got military trained to fight riots. and back then was able to use his hunting rifle as his defense against those responsible for the civil rights riots of that time. that and a big white stick used for socking protesters in the stomach at his captains request.

just my grandpa, sitting in our kitchen. he sits with long silent pauses in between my questions. as though he doesnt want or have anything to say unless i ask him something. i give him hugs. i stay close to him. but inbetween the moments where hes talking or eating or listening, he seems so sad. so very empty. he just doesnt seem to carry the same enthusiasm he used to bear.

i dont have my grandma.

i think about this every day. i think about how shes supposed to be right on the other end of a phone call. shes supposed to be around when grandpa is. shes supposed to be the quiet voice in the background of grandpas messages.

but shes not.

things have proceeded the same since her death, but there is an obvious and distinct void where she comfortably fit. grandpa isnt very vocale to me how he feels. him and mom spend a lot of time together mouring over the phone or inside grandpas house.

but not to me.

i feel out of place. like i shouldnt be included in the intimacy of her loss between my grandfather and mother. but i want to be included. i want grandpa to talk to me about how he feels. what he does to pass the time. what he thinks about living in an empty house. does her side of the bed still feel warm? does he find himself calling out for her to get him something, then remember hes all thats left?

is he having a hard time? are his friends there for him? does he feel happy or empty? does anything he does make him happy? or is he constantly thinking of her?

five decades with her always there versus my own mere two decades of knowing her.

if i feel this hurt by her loss, i cant even imagine how incredible the pain must be for my grandfather.

i miss my grandma. i miss her every day.