Ok, another time of the year that's rough....so what do I do, I blog about it. Tomorrow marks two years since the day my Grandpa Pollock passed away. I did really well last year around this time....I mean I thought about him and what had happened and I did my grieving, but this year seems to be worse than last year. It started on Saturday night (the middle of me being sick) that I had a crazy dream that I just can't seem to shake. I dreamed that I was at my Grandpa's farm (that has since been sold) with the rest of the family, and I mean the whole family...cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone. We were all sitting around the dining room and kitchen and my Grandpa was sitting next to the fridge and I was on a chair in front of him by his feet. It was as if he and I were the only ones in the room, but yet it was a full house. He got up and started walking towards the front door. I followed because I was determined I wanted to go wherever he went. He went outside to a pick-up and got inside. I tried to get inside and he told me I couldn't go with him. So I stepped back and he drove off. So I went into the garage and started going from vehicle to vehicle trying to "fix" them (I thought there was something wrong with some of them). But I couldn't figure it out, so I just sat in a van that was supposed to be my Grandma's. And that was the dream. Very weird....and ever since the I've had a very hard time with my Grandpa. Maybe I'm making too much out of nothing, but it was just so real and to be sitting with him again and then he just left....again. It was the same kind of raw hurt all over again. Don't get me wrong I know where he is, and deep down I would never wish him back. He's with his Savior. He's not suffering anymore and he never will. And I will see him someday. I guess maybe I'm not grieving for him so much as for me. For me that I have to wait to see him when I miss him so much. For my daughter who won't ever meet him this side of Heaven....and me knowing that she missed meeting a great man. That's what I grieve I think. And I also know that he's up there with grandchildren on his knee (the ones I've never met) and that comforts me. And knowing that I still have a husband because my Grandpa chose to take my husbands cancer upon himself. A gift that I hope to never take for granted. And this is why I blog, because when it's done right I feel better when I've shared my heart. You know one other thing that has come from all this is that I question how I should live my life....so that in the end when they are having my funeral, they are saying things about me that mirror what they said about my Grandpa and the wonderful faith he had.
I love you, Grandpa. I will see you again, and when I do I will give you a great big hug and thank you for all you did for me and all the ways you showed me love.