Monday morning, I had another dream about him. The atheist with a Bible verse tattoo. A weird dream. Sunday afternoon, I went down to Tucson for work. They got me a hotel room that was intended to be shared, so I ended up with a room meant for two people. As I was drifting off, I remembered that the last time I had a hotel room that wasn't for business, or that I wasn't sharing with several other people, was when Kyle and I were in Nashville.
And then I dreamt. I don't remember the details anymore, but it was almost cathartic. Not that day - that day I just missed him. But today has lent me a new perspective.
On a completely unrelated note, I woke up this morning to a phone call from my mother. Jerry, someone who has been like a grandfather to me since I was in elementary school, was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. He has been given three to six months to live.
I'm in the process of planning a trip home now, trying to come to terms with the fact that it will likely be the last time I see him. He won't be there for my wedding. He won't be there for my sister's wedding this winter. He likely won't paint any more. There won't be any more get-togethers at his house on New Year's Day for black-eyed peas and cornbread.
His left lung has a tumor the size of an orange and growing. He has lived a wonderful and rewarding 79 years. Life hasn't always been kind to him, and he hasn't always been kind to his body, so I think he's come to terms with things a lot easier than the rest of us.
It seems like there's been so much grieving lately. So much loss. I'm not ready for this.
No comments:
Post a Comment