The Definition of Time

Chapter 54

i miss you
a phrase used and misused too many times
i don't think it portrays the depth of longing left in my soul
i miss you means I can recall every touch
your finger gently tracing the curve of my jaw
your grasp possessively on my waist
it means I can still see the first time we met
i was intrigued by your rebellion, your freedom
I'd been craving to taste it all my life
but had just now discovered the thirst
i remember the electricity the first time we met eyes
do you remember everything
the way that I do?

i am losing you.
your laugh is fading
and your eyes and your smile
and even my memories are slipping
like sand through my clenched fists.
i am losing you again
like the day you left me alone
the pain of losing you
has followed me
even though you didn't.

don't be afraid.
as long as i know your name,
i will miss you.
i will always miss you

September 16, 2015

"I miss you, Gramps," I whisper to his gravestone.

I hold a bouquet of flowers in one hand and kneel on the grass in front of his grave. It doesn't seem possible that he's gone. He has always been a staple in my life, one of the only things that has withstood the test of time, but he finally succumbed.

We had a good summer, Gramps and I. I visited him almost every day and spent hours reading to him and talking to him. In August, his speech started to deteriorate. The cancer was taking over his organs at that point and they said it was only a matter of time. He seemed less and less able to recognize who I was when I came to visit. It was harder to come in every day and see him falling apart. By the end of August, he hardly seemed to be the same old man who would pretend to find a dime in my ear. 

On September 2, 2015, he passed away in his sleep. No one was with him when he passed; I was on my way to the hospital, and I walked into his room only moments later. There were nurses around him, shutting down monitors and pulling out needles. They told me he died painlessly, that he wasn't even aware of what was happening. I sobbed until it felt like I had no tears left.

A few days ago, we had the funeral. Mom wanted an open-casket service, and even though I begged her not to, we were forced to walk by and see his face. They had put make up on him and tried to re-contort his shriveled skin into its previous shape, but it looked unnatural. I closed my eyes while I walked by; I want to remember him the way he is in my memories. Smiling, laugh-lines, and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

"You left us two weeks ago, Gramps. Nothing feels the same without you. I've just..." I feel tears coming to my eyes. "I've lost so much in the last few months, Gramps, I was hoping I wouldn't lose you too."

I wipe my eyes and sit back on my knees. Before all of this happened--before I went to college, Gramps was diagnosed, I met Josh--everything was so simple. Happiness was so easy. Now happiness seems like a myth told to children who are in for a rude awakening when they grow up and realize that nothing is easy and everything hurts.

"I lived with no regrets, like you said, Gramps," I whisper. "I fell in love for the first time, and I gave it...I gave him everything I had. It was the most beautiful and painful thing I've ever experienced. I lived, Gramps. I lived while you were dying, and I feel so guilty now..."

I can almost hear his voice reassuring me. That's what I wanted for you, Rachy. I wouldn't want you worried about some senile old man in a hospital. I'd want you out there living your best life.

"I hope I get to make you proud someday, Gramps. I'm interning at the local newspaper now; I don't know if you remember me telling you that. I moved in with Emmalee. We worked together this summer and last summer, and she was looking for a roommate. I'm trying to remember what my dreams were before all of this happened, Gramps. It's just hard sometimes to see past all of the pain right now."