This picture is from last summer when Amy, Geoff and Lila were in town and we took a trip down to Richmond to see Uncle Jack and Amanda.
Amanda told me tonight that Mr. Grider passed away. As silly as I felt talking to her about it on instant messenger, I'm glad we talked that way. Instead of dodging the topic when you feel yourself starting to lose it, you can actually say and ask everything you want to and still appea completely composed.
It's hard to explain his relation to me, but lets try this. Amanda is my cousin who has, since birth, been one of the closest friends I've ever had. Her parents are my Uncle Jack (pictured above) and Aunt Linda. Aunt Linda is my Dad's younger sister. The Griders are Uncle Jack's parents. So, technically, no relation. But they've been in my life for as long as I can remember, and every time Amanda, Uncle Jack, and Aunt Linda came up to visit, it was a big deal getting to go play at Grider's house. My Uncle Jack is an only child so it wasn't uncommon for his parents to come to our big family get togethers with him.
I think that my least favorite part about growing up is seeing those people who are not in your every day life stray from the picture you've kept of them in your head. The cruel reality is that Mr. Grider's passing has been a long time coming, which is why I'm surprised at how upset I am. I feel like I knew this was coming and I have no right, like if the people who were so much closer to him can stay so composed then I owe it to them to at least do the same. I think it's just tied up with a lot of other things. How much I miss my family, how homesick I am, and how it seems like out of nowhere all those comforts of my kid life are gone. I want so badly to call and talk to my aunt linda. To know that there's someone there who my uncle will let take care of him, that Amanda would have someone there to do all those necessary Mom things that they do when something happens that puts your life on hold for a while.
But, if we're being realistic, if she had lived long enough to be in the situation where she'd be living in that house with uncle jack and his parents, they all would have killed each other. Seriously. I doubt they would have been able to finish unpacking.
On an odd, possibly related note, I had a pretty vivid dream about my grandmother last night. I was the same age I am now, but I suspect she was younger, because she was still healthy and her mind was still sharp. I don't really remember anything that happened, but I was so happy to see her and spend time with her. It took me a few minutes after I woke to remember that she's been gone almost a year, and that simple, nothing happening dream felt so good because I miss her so much.
So she has some company now. Her and Mr. Grider had been friends for as long as I can remember. The story of how they became close is blurry now but I believe they met during world war two when they were working together. Uncle Jack and Amanda were talking about how his service will probably be small because he outlived so many of his friends.
It's strange how hard we bargain with ourselves when we lose someone. I find comfort knowing that he isn't hurting anymore, and that he'll never feel lost or confused again. But realistically I can't stop thinking about amanda and uncle jack, how much they've been through, and how deeply unfair it is for them to have any more excess pain.
My sister Amy was talking to Amanda on Christmas this year (ten years after aunt linda died) and she said what I think all of us are feeling. "It's like, come on, it's been ten years. Aren't we done with this? Haven't we paid our dues? Can she come back now?"
My grandfather died when I was nine and I distinctly remember walking past a picture of jesus in the funeral home and wanting to knock it off the wall and kick a hole in it. Don't follow me around this room with those creepy oil paint eyes like everything's fine. Jerk. I miss poppop. I like to think I've grown a little since then. It's foolish to think that nothing bad will ever happen to you so long as you're at church every sunday and you do good things for fear of god catching you being an asshole. I think one of the hardest lessons you learn in life is that bad things are going to happen no matter what. But I do think that whatever divine power you believe in has some say in who comes into your life, and he does his best to bring you people who will help you through those inevitable bad times.
I hate how such insignificant things take priority in your life. I could care less about Bach's 14th invention right now, I just want to go to Virginia and hang out with Amanda so she doesn't have to be alone tonight. Stay up and exchange stories and just not be sad tonight. But realistically, she has an internship and I have to graduate sometime before I turn 35. I just wish I could be there. I really hope I can make it home for the services...
Rest in peace, Mr. Grider.
Dear Cafe Worker,
