grandfather

Today we buried my grandfather on my dads side of the family. I've only known him for 13 years, I met him the same year I met my father for the first time. He was a kind man, I wish I would have known him better. I wish he'd been a part of my life as a child. At the services today people kept telling me 'your grandfather was a great man, a kind man.' 'he's helped me out plenty of times'. All kind words. I found myself crying because I missed not having him in my life my first 18 years rather than because he was gone. It felt weird being there with all these people who've known him much longer then I have. I looked around and thought to myself, all these people are my family and I don't know half of them and I started crying even more. I found myself hiding in the back of the funeral home, up against a wall. I studied everyone, their facial expressions, their tears, their laughs. I overheard stories of that camping trip at Canyon Lake, or that Barbeque where he burned the meat... etc... etc... Then I thought of my memories of him in the short time I knew him and one stood out the most. It was my birthday, two years ago. We were at my dads house for a dinner they were having for me. When it came time for me to blow out the candles on my cake he started to cry. I turned towards him and he said 'you're so beautiful, I'm glad we have you in our lives now. I know it's your birthday but I want to make a wish for you. I wish for you to have an amazing life from here on out.' then he kissed my hand and told me he loved me. That is the fondest memory I have of him and I will cherish it forever.