It’s been a year since my grandmother died. She went to the hospital on New Years Day, things looked bleak, better, okay, and then it was time.
I flew down on Thursday, my cousin picked me up. I ended up crashing at his place in Manhattan Beach after we stopped at Solidarity in Santa Monica which my friend owns.
I woke up early on his couch and wrote in my journal: “Grandpa does want grandma to die alone, but I think she needs the space.” When my cousin woke up, I thought we should head to the hospital. Instead, I made French toast with Trader Joe’s Brioche loaf. We got the call as we were cleaning up.
It was weird and perfect. My grandfather asked if I would give the eulogy. My cousin and I agreed to fix my grandfather’s gate. I flew home as the funeral was the following Saturday.
I thought about calling my grandfather today, just to tell him I was I was thinking about him. I ran around with the family today and didn’t make time for the call.
I took my son to a birthday party at a pizza and entertainment place. Only a smattering of kids showed up. My son played a few games before the pizza, them he played a few more before the Lazer Tag game. He and I were on the same team and went in different directions for a while. Then I found him and we stayed pretty close by for a most of the middle of the game. I was aiming at the wrong set of lights most of the game and accidentally zapped him six times. But we both had a fun time. The birthday kid opened presents and was grateful. After the official festivities wrapped my son played a few more video games and some pinball with his “second best friend” and turned in his token for more candy and trinkets.
I am grateful for getting to play with my son and that even though he knows he got hit a bunch of times and my being a away from him for parts of the game were stressful, he had a great time and wants to go back with Mom and his sister. The world is still a place of wonder and joy for him and for that also, I am grateful.
