death

The Legend Rests

At the beginning of April, my grandfather passed from this world to the next.

I wrote about him in 2018, but nothing I could ever say would do him justice.

He was a force. A strong presence in my life. He showed me what a male role model should be. He, and my grandmother who passed twelve years before him, were the two constants in my life.

I might move, I might be lost, but I always knew where to find them.

He did so much for me and there is no way I could ever give all the gifts he shared with me justice.

Things that I didn’t understand as a child that can only be brought to life as I age and review those memories with more information and deeper understanding.

He and my grandmother gave me a place to live when I had no where else to go.  He was a refuge in the storm of my life. They both were.

Due to COVID, I could not attend the funeral. I was able to watch it streamed online through Facebook.

In all honesty it is probably a good thing I did not attend. It was clear that my presence would not have been welcomed. I could feel the distain for my existence in the obituary, in the comments made, in the statements that listed all of my grandfather’s grandchildren except for me.

There is only one grandchild I would consider to have been closer to my grandfather than I was.

And that child blatantly removed all traces of my existence.

But this isn’t about me. It’s not about the hurt I feel, the aching hole in my heart that his absence leaves, nor the fact that I wish so desperately for the times that I could do over again.

This is about my grandfather.

The man who would tell us that he walked to school every day, uphill both ways, in his father’s pajamas with snow up to his knees. Never mind the fact that he went to boarding school in India.

The man who would always know when we were about to touch the controller and change the channel from golf. He was always ‘just resting his eyes’.

The man who I sang with in Church at Christmas and who got me my one and only wedding singer job.

The man who arranged for me to attend karate lessons at his club a good thirty minutes away when I was no longer able to attend my local one. And he would take me and drive in the poor weather. Every time.

The man who would bellow for my grandmother to make him some tea while she worked in their shared home office in the basement.

The man who always tended to his garden, glued the legs back on that godforsaken donkey lawn ornament more times than I can count.

The man who enjoyed feeding birds and maintaining his lawn.

I was lucky enough not to watch him get sick and deteriorate. I didn’t have to watch him fade from the strong man as he exists in my mind, and for that I am grateful.

But he rests now.

The Legend rests.

Posted by Sarah Jayne in Rantings, 0 comments

Music in the Soul

For those of you who may not know, I’ve been an avid fan of Linkin Park since my youth. I might not have been absolutely insane about them like a lot of my friends, but I’ve held their music close. Even the new stuff that a lot of people didn’t like I enjoyed. With the death of Chester Bennington, I felt a profound sense of loss. I never met him, I was never able to make it to a concert, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel some connection with him and the rest of the band through the music they made.

I found this beautiful mashup today by Kurt Hugo Schneider. It’s haunting and wonderful. I almost cried listening to it. If you are a fan and are feeling loss right now, I encourage you to listen to it.

Posted by Sarah Jayne in Rantings, 0 comments

Crooked Smile – The Weepies

On this day, seven years ago, I buried my grandmother. That was the last time I set foot in Ontario. I have no plans to return.

Today, I will remember my grandmother and all that she taught me. I will remember her smile and her kind voice. I will drink tea in remembrance of her, as I do every day.

This is also a beautiful song if you are feeling introspective. So listen to it. Enjoy it. Love it.

Posted by Sarah Jayne in Rantings, 0 comments

Mindful Musings #101

Mindful Musings

It’s been seven years.

Seven years ago, today.

It’s been longer than that since I’ve heard your voice

The illness took you from us.

Never again will I hear you call me

My girl.’

Never again will I sit with you

While we drink tea in the morning light

Of your kitchen.

You gave me so much

And I fear I gave nothing in return.

It’s been seven years.

The hurt still gnaws at my heart.

 

Posted by Sarah Jayne in Musings, 0 comments

Mindful Musings #57

Mindful Musings

The dead talk to you

With haunted whispers.

They permeate your surroundings

And seep into your bones.

The dead grip you

As they try to pull you

Towards their solitude;

Their isolation.

The breeze is a whisper in disguise

Singing softly to you

From your window.

Come. Come. Come.

They beckon.

Will you follow?

 

Posted by Sarah Jayne in Musings, 0 comments