(no subject)
Iceland was incredible. Even though it was so cold my ballsack was pretty much nonexistent for the whole trip, I had such an incredible time. The energy in that island, the concert, the sights, the water... I definitely fell in love with that place.
It just needs to be a little warmer next time I go.
And next time my grandfather better not die on me in the middle of the trip as I'm pretty much far from having (or thinking of using) communication with the rest of the world.
It's a good step when you joke about it, right?
My grandfather Martin Nieves died on Saturday. I found out in an email when I came back Sunday night. I was in Puerto Rico several hours later.
My first close death. My hilarious and inspirational grandfather that molded my own father is now dead. He looked like he was sleeping.
And I can honestly say that I don't feel like we're over. I always feared that feeling of pure emptiness after death. Absolute death just seemed so... absolute. But now with someone of my own blood dead, and someone that I loved so dearly, I can feel like there's still something left. More than memories.
Maybe it's Crazy talking here. (Not a Tori allusion.)
He brought so much love into our lives, and even after death he will affect our lives everyday. Nothing will replace the memories of my father and I sitting in the car listening to his music, remembering his voice, remembering his personality, missing him. My father telling me "these tapes are so good if you're one of those that embraces melancholy" as he cries his memories out.
I love you mi viejito. You were such an example, and you gave me the amazing father I have now. I won't let you down.
It just needs to be a little warmer next time I go.
And next time my grandfather better not die on me in the middle of the trip as I'm pretty much far from having (or thinking of using) communication with the rest of the world.
It's a good step when you joke about it, right?
My grandfather Martin Nieves died on Saturday. I found out in an email when I came back Sunday night. I was in Puerto Rico several hours later.
My first close death. My hilarious and inspirational grandfather that molded my own father is now dead. He looked like he was sleeping.
And I can honestly say that I don't feel like we're over. I always feared that feeling of pure emptiness after death. Absolute death just seemed so... absolute. But now with someone of my own blood dead, and someone that I loved so dearly, I can feel like there's still something left. More than memories.
Maybe it's Crazy talking here. (Not a Tori allusion.)
He brought so much love into our lives, and even after death he will affect our lives everyday. Nothing will replace the memories of my father and I sitting in the car listening to his music, remembering his voice, remembering his personality, missing him. My father telling me "these tapes are so good if you're one of those that embraces melancholy" as he cries his memories out.
I love you mi viejito. You were such an example, and you gave me the amazing father I have now. I won't let you down.