- The father of one’s father or mother.synonyms: informal grandad, grandpa, grandpop, gramps, grand daddy
At the end of September, my Grampy passed away. This was something that we weren’t expecting, something that happened in a matter of weeks and something that shook my world.
My Grampy died on 25th September 2017 from cancer.
Today I look into the mirror and try to hold it together. Hold it together for my children who are getting ready for school, to them it is just another day. For me, it’s the day we say goodbye to a man who was taken too soon. We celebrate a life that has touched our hearts and lives. A man that earned the named Grampy with 5 stars.
My Grampy was my dads’ stepfather but to me and my sisters and the whole family that didn’t matter. He is a grandfather to us in every way. Even though he was a quiet man and kept himself to his self he was still there when you needed him to be.
When I was young I would often stay with my Grandma and Grampy and enjoyed playing cards with Grampy. Our favourite game was Play your cards right, and even though he was probably bored of playing the game so often he never said no.
When my Grandma passed of lung cancer when I was a teenager my Grampy would come to our house every Tuesday for his tea, sausage, egg and chips. Almost every Tuesday for nearly fourteen years.
And when I had children of my own, he adored them. Even though they were loud and boisterous he had time for them. He was often found on a Tuesday evening playing the chase on the iPad with BG1. Watching them together reminded me so much of me and Grampy when I was young.
And when BG2 was born and we had to travel an hour and a half to see her in the hospital every other day my Grampy was there offering us lifts whenever he could.
Five years ago he survived throat cancer, and maybe I was foolish in hoping that was the end of it. That the big ‘C’ took my Grandma away from me too soon it was going to leave us with Grampy. But I was wrong. The big ‘C’ came back in his lungs. It was so quick, just a matter of weeks from diagnoses until his last day.
We knew the end was coming near over the weekend, and while I had time for myself on Saturday evening I took the time to remember the good times. I cried and had a long chat with my Grandma to make sure she was waiting at the gates for him. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.
And when I got that phone call on Monday morning I wept once again. I was comforted by my husband and chose not to tell the children right away. I didn’t want to interrupt their school and decided to wait until the weekend.
I felt sick and nervous about telling BG1 and LM, but they are still very young and didn’t really understand completely. BG1 at the age of 8 understood the majority as she remembers when my mums’ dog passed away and based what she knew of death from that. I was glad that they didn’t really understand and could move on.
We will not forget, I will never forget. When I lost my Grandma I was devastated and it is something I remember often and wish I could change, and now losing my Grampy at the age of 70 it doesn’t get any easier. Whether a person is in their 50’s like my Grandma, of in their 70’s like my Grampy or 90 or 100 it doesn’t get easier. That person is a big part of your life and losing that person breaks your heart into a thousand pieces. Sure, over time the piece glue themselves back together, but there will always be that one piece that stays broken, that one piece that is waiting until you are once again reunited at the pearly gates of heaven.
Today we remember my Grampy, for the caring man he was. We wish him peace and love for his new journey he is about to take. And take comfort that he is now reunited with the woman he loved so much, my Grandma.
Today I will cry, but tomorrow I will smile because tomorrow I will have happy memories to help piece my broken heart together once again.
RIP My Grampy