Saying Goodbye
I've said goodbye to my grandfather. Sober. With my other grandfather, I needed alcohol for the courage to do it. I'm grateful for being able to say goodbye; so many people never get to.
My relationship with him over the past nineteen or so years has been one-on-one. When I got to his room, his daughter was in there. We hugged and talked; she's very loving. She stepped just out of the room for me to have a moment alone with Daddy Bob. I said what I could, but I felt hurried and uncomfortable because she was there. I'm sure she would have moved further off if I'd asked, but I didn't. Was my not asking people-pleasing or Southern manners? I get the two confused...
When finished saying goodbye to him, I stepped to the door. She and I talked more. A few minutes later, we were on the way out of the hospital - me back to work and her to the restaurant in the basement. At one point, I considered going back to his room. I didn't. She and I talked out front for awhile longer. Then she headed to the restaurant and I toward the parking deck. About fifty feet away, I stopped, turned around and went back inside. I knew I was not going to come back to the hospital (unless he comes back) and I had not really done what I came to do. I went back to his room and thanked him for so many things, told how much I love him and what he means to me. I told him it would be wonderful if he stayed, but if it was time to go, I was so thankful to be able to tell him goodbye. I gave him a kiss and left.
I'm so glad I listened to that still, small voice that said to go back. I'm glad I acted on my listening. Daddy Bob and I reconnected over the past couple of years. In that reconnecting, we were not only grandfather and grandson, but we were a couple of men. I really enjoyed talking with him on that level. He helped me feel like I had grown up, grown into a man. I'll miss him and I'll cry, but it won't be for what I should've done, for he and I are good. We know each other and love each other. I'll miss visiting him, but I carry so much of what he gave me... He'll still be here.
My relationship with him over the past nineteen or so years has been one-on-one. When I got to his room, his daughter was in there. We hugged and talked; she's very loving. She stepped just out of the room for me to have a moment alone with Daddy Bob. I said what I could, but I felt hurried and uncomfortable because she was there. I'm sure she would have moved further off if I'd asked, but I didn't. Was my not asking people-pleasing or Southern manners? I get the two confused...
When finished saying goodbye to him, I stepped to the door. She and I talked more. A few minutes later, we were on the way out of the hospital - me back to work and her to the restaurant in the basement. At one point, I considered going back to his room. I didn't. She and I talked out front for awhile longer. Then she headed to the restaurant and I toward the parking deck. About fifty feet away, I stopped, turned around and went back inside. I knew I was not going to come back to the hospital (unless he comes back) and I had not really done what I came to do. I went back to his room and thanked him for so many things, told how much I love him and what he means to me. I told him it would be wonderful if he stayed, but if it was time to go, I was so thankful to be able to tell him goodbye. I gave him a kiss and left.
I'm so glad I listened to that still, small voice that said to go back. I'm glad I acted on my listening. Daddy Bob and I reconnected over the past couple of years. In that reconnecting, we were not only grandfather and grandson, but we were a couple of men. I really enjoyed talking with him on that level. He helped me feel like I had grown up, grown into a man. I'll miss him and I'll cry, but it won't be for what I should've done, for he and I are good. We know each other and love each other. I'll miss visiting him, but I carry so much of what he gave me... He'll still be here.
