Family History
My grand father on my Dad's side of the family passed away a few days ago. The funeral is tomorrow. a funeral I will not be able to make it to.
I'm not really sure how I feel about this anyways. I am a little sad that he passed away, but after the time that I was 4 years old, I hadn't heard from him. My father and him never really got along, so the feeling I have right now is like either something is finished, or something needs to be finished.
Because I was so young when I last saw my dad's father, I don't even remember what his face looks like. I remember the sweaters he wore, that he had a dark chocolate poodle, and in the entrance of his house he had a daddy grand piano that the morning mail was placed on ever day.
In other family news, my mother's father is having some difficulties. To make a long story short, he has had to go from living by himself, to living with my aunt up north. No one else had room for his furniture from his house so I have been given it. Witch is a good thing because I had almost no furniture of my own. I now have a bed, dresser, vanity, and night stand that are way older than I am. They originally belonged to my great grand parents, and then my grandparents. (Skipping a generation.) Now they belong to me. And over the last few days I just keep remembering playing house in my grandmother's room and sitting at her vanity as a child with all it's pretty perfume bottles and make up. Or grandma letting me play dress up from her dresser. I don't remember the cloths I got to play in, but I remember these pastel lime green and peach high heal shoes I always gravitated to that my feed only fit through the open holes.
Just the last few days have made me do a lot of thinking.
I'm not really sure how I feel about this anyways. I am a little sad that he passed away, but after the time that I was 4 years old, I hadn't heard from him. My father and him never really got along, so the feeling I have right now is like either something is finished, or something needs to be finished.
Because I was so young when I last saw my dad's father, I don't even remember what his face looks like. I remember the sweaters he wore, that he had a dark chocolate poodle, and in the entrance of his house he had a daddy grand piano that the morning mail was placed on ever day.
In other family news, my mother's father is having some difficulties. To make a long story short, he has had to go from living by himself, to living with my aunt up north. No one else had room for his furniture from his house so I have been given it. Witch is a good thing because I had almost no furniture of my own. I now have a bed, dresser, vanity, and night stand that are way older than I am. They originally belonged to my great grand parents, and then my grandparents. (Skipping a generation.) Now they belong to me. And over the last few days I just keep remembering playing house in my grandmother's room and sitting at her vanity as a child with all it's pretty perfume bottles and make up. Or grandma letting me play dress up from her dresser. I don't remember the cloths I got to play in, but I remember these pastel lime green and peach high heal shoes I always gravitated to that my feed only fit through the open holes.
Just the last few days have made me do a lot of thinking.