Things left unsaid
I got an email today that my dad's father passed away on Friday. It was the strangest sensation: I haven't seen or talked to him since probably junior high, so at first, I was just shocked. It's not that I necessarily have anything against my dad's parents, it's just that they always seemed to prefer my cousin to us, and when my parents got divorced, they acted like he had every right to leave his family for his secretary and move to Florida because "he should do what makes him happy." I never got that, and meanwhile, my mom's parents were always there for us, and so it sort of felt like a betrayal of them for me to want to see my dad's parents. Over the years, I've often thought about contacting them, but I really have no interest in seeing my dad, and I always feared that I couldn't have a relationship with them without having to see my dad. I guess I never really thought about how I would feel when they died.
I was sitting on the subway, at an above-the-ground stop on my way home from a lovely brunch with some girlfriends, and I received a facebook email from my cousin informing me that he had been sick for over a month and they finally removed his breathing tube. Obviously the gut reaction when you hear of anyone you've known passing is shock and a tinge of sadness, and that's exactly how I felt. But I could tell there was another, unexpressed emotion in me as well. I texted Sean and told him that my grandfather had passed and I felt weird. Then the subway continued on, back underground again.
As we reached my stop and I got off and began to climb the stairs above ground, I suddenly started to shake uncontrollable and hysterically sob. When I finally made it out of the subway station and started walking the 2 blocks home, I realized Sean had left me a voicemail. Without checking it, I called him and was trying to catch my breath and calm down enough to explain to him what had happened. I kept saying "I don't even know why I'm crying! I haven't seen him in years!" It just blows my mind sometimes how I can be so in-control of myself, but be completely powerless to my emotions.
I finally calmed down and realized I needed to let my family know. I texted my brother, who was probably 6 the last time he saw my dad's parents. He's now 28, and his response was "That's a shame. I don't really remember him." I called my mother, and immmediately broke down into tears again. I called my sister, who is 30, and is the only one of the three of us who has seen my grandfather in recent years. I was worried she would take it the hardest, but she calmly said, "Find out the funeral arrangements and we'll send something." I was grateful for her composure.
I finished spreading the news and fell asleep. I feel much calmer now, but there's still a lump in my throat and I feel like there is this unfinished business now. I think this is what regret feels like.
I was sitting on the subway, at an above-the-ground stop on my way home from a lovely brunch with some girlfriends, and I received a facebook email from my cousin informing me that he had been sick for over a month and they finally removed his breathing tube. Obviously the gut reaction when you hear of anyone you've known passing is shock and a tinge of sadness, and that's exactly how I felt. But I could tell there was another, unexpressed emotion in me as well. I texted Sean and told him that my grandfather had passed and I felt weird. Then the subway continued on, back underground again.
As we reached my stop and I got off and began to climb the stairs above ground, I suddenly started to shake uncontrollable and hysterically sob. When I finally made it out of the subway station and started walking the 2 blocks home, I realized Sean had left me a voicemail. Without checking it, I called him and was trying to catch my breath and calm down enough to explain to him what had happened. I kept saying "I don't even know why I'm crying! I haven't seen him in years!" It just blows my mind sometimes how I can be so in-control of myself, but be completely powerless to my emotions.
I finally calmed down and realized I needed to let my family know. I texted my brother, who was probably 6 the last time he saw my dad's parents. He's now 28, and his response was "That's a shame. I don't really remember him." I called my mother, and immmediately broke down into tears again. I called my sister, who is 30, and is the only one of the three of us who has seen my grandfather in recent years. I was worried she would take it the hardest, but she calmly said, "Find out the funeral arrangements and we'll send something." I was grateful for her composure.
I finished spreading the news and fell asleep. I feel much calmer now, but there's still a lump in my throat and I feel like there is this unfinished business now. I think this is what regret feels like.