today was my grandfather’s funeral. i am the eldest grandchild, so i was chosen to give “a granddaughter’s tribute”. it was probably the most difficult thing i’ve ever had to do. but i made it through. sharing meaningful memories to represent all of the grandchildren wasn’t easy.
my grandfather was a man who loved his family: his wife, his children, their children, and his great grandchildren very much. a man who would wake up before the rest of the household and make buttered toast and hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows for the grandchildren. he taught us that the red wings were the only hockey team worth rooting for, diet coke was the only acceptable soft drink beverage, and that chocolate could cure any heartache. he’d dress up as chief woki-konza and teach us about native american culture and convinced us that we were part native (which is completely false). he wore the best smelling cologne, and when we parted after hugs, the scent was with us. he told us stories of the war, of adventures of the sea. he had a sword collection that we weren’t allowed to touch without permission. his favorite music genre was german polka. he collected coins & obscure turquoise jewelry. my memories are vivid; i know that they will fade.
grief is a strange thing, patterned in waves of emotion that overwhelm and comfort.
i miss my grandfather. i miss the sound of his voice and his laugh and his smile.