The Ultimate Couple

At Mass this past Sunday I started to think about my grandparents and miss them. It seemed sort of random, I'm not sure what brought it on, but probably the holiday season. My grandpa passed away in February 2009 and my grandma passed away six months later in August 2009. Later that day I wrote a little something about them, thinking about the stories my dad shared with me. It's not perfect, but here it is:

The Ultimate Couple

I didn't even know them that well, but I now know that they were the ultimate couple. Every year brings new stories about my grandparents, especially after their deaths. Some are sad and others are joyful. I know their love ran deep for their grandchildren, but they didn't often express it. My brother and I were their "candy testers," a job we certainly enjoyed (and which probably later led to my brother not liking sweets). We probably spent the night a few times, but only one time do I have memories from; we watched a show on miracles, especially those dealing with Mary. The TV was often on some show or another. My family stopped by after church on Sundays, but when my parents got divorced, my trips were less frequent. My more vivid memories are when they were both ill, especially my grandpa. Every time I saw him he would say that might be the last time. The Christmas before he died was probably the hardest. We all knew he wouldn't be around for very long but put on smiles nonetheless. When I got in my dad's car that night I cried. Saying goodbye is hard, especially when you don't know when you'll say goodbye for the final time.

Till the end, until my grandma's death six months after my grandpa's, their love for each other and their bonds remained strong. They took care of each other, even if it meant only offering a friendly conversation or a loving glance. They were each other's lives, which explains the short period of time between the deaths; my grandma just couldn't live without the love of her life. My dad tells stories about how they'd fight and argue and he was always afraid they would get a divorce, but later on they always made up and went about life as usual. They also talked every morning; my dad says that was one of his favorite things about them. Before they got up for the day they talked. Even into their old ages they always had things to talk about. I wish I had known them better, that we would have had a better relationship. I wrote them cards, but never called. I was scared for some reason. Maybe it was my way of protecting my heart from pain after death, but somehow I think it might be worse.