Two Years Later: A Tribute to My Grandpa

Two years.  Today it has been two years since my grandpa drew his last breath.  Two years and two days since the Halloween day I spent by his bedside, holding his frail hand and spoon-feeding him yogurt.  It’s been two years, but it feels like an eternity since I last hugged my grandpa and heard him whisper “Proud of you” in my ear.  And yet, at the same time, when I walked the hallways of his home two months ago with my new baby, pointing out to her the dearest nooks and crannies of that special place, I felt like he might step out from around the corner at any moment, ready with a squealing cat noise to startle me out of my skin.

I’ve shed a few tears today remembering Grandpa.  Tears from one eye are sad, sad that my little baby girl who’s happily rolling around on the floor won’t grow up sitting on his lap listening to his funny stories.  But tears from the other eye are happy, so happy that for nearly two years, she sat on his lap on the other side of the veil, where he took care of her before she came to me.  And so happy that I get to see glimpses of him in her–she has his deep, dark blue, soul-searching eyes, and I’ve even seen her perfectly mimic his signature one-eyebrow-raised questioning expression.

I’m so grateful for all the memories I have of my grandpa that I’ll share with my baby girl as she grows, and so grateful to know deep down in my soul that one day, we’ll see him again and the years spent apart will seem like no time at all.  I love you, Grandpa!

Preserving memories of my Grandpa before his death is what ignited my passion for photography.  To read more about that, click here and if you’d like to read more about my grandpa and his life, click here.