Not sure if this counts as "small talk" but what the hey .....
My grandpa died early Friday morning. We were pretty close.
I didn't go see him Thursday.
They told me Wednesday night he was sick, and they didn't know how long he'd make it. They said on Thursday he was sick, but he was doing ok, but I'd probably want to come see him. I figured I would come and see him Friday, after work, or maybe in the middle of work.
Nobody knew how quick it would go. But it shouldn't have mattered. I had time Thursday. I had a whole afternoon off from work. I could have gone home easily and visit my sick Grandpa.
There was so little I could do for him, to help him or make him feel better or ease his pain or anything. The one thing I could do was go and visit...to say hi. To just sit and talk with him, or just be present, let him know I'm thinking of him.
The funeral is in a couple days.
I miss him. It's hard to think about, really. I'm finally getting around to preparing some thoughts I want to share, and editing the obituary he wrote, as I was asked to do. It's harder than I thought. I've been busy at work, and when I come home I distract myself.
People say now, he is in heaven singing to God. Now he has that full head of hair back again. One person even said on Facebook that I shouldn't kick myself for not visiting because God has a plan and everything works out for good, and I wanted to scream at her.
I am happy he's not suffering any more. He's been in a nursing home half paralyzed for quite some time, and he was never comfortable there.
I don't know much about grieving. Haven't lost anyone real close before. I've been getting very good support on Facebook, though, both from my "regular" friends and the secret atheist group.
I don't feel like I "need" to go back to faith, so that I could believe in heaven again. But I can't help but think this would be easier to deal with if I thought I'd see him again someday. Right now I'm just trying to work through the process.
Thanks Belle. Trying to compile some memories now, edit his obituary, and I'm just exhausted... I don't always do tough emotions real well. Sometimes just try to push them away and ignore them. This time I can't do that.
I remember reading somewhere once that grief is something that has to be experienced. It cannot be side-stepped or out-thought.
And don't beat yourself up about not visiting. Let that go. You have a whole lifetime of memories with him to focus on instead.
You love him. He knew you love him. That bond is more important than any visit. Don't let "if only..." distract you and prevent you from processing these difficult emotions in a healthy way (see Bargaining stage of grief). And don't let it interfere with your positive memories.
My father died two Februaries ago, and one of the hardest things was dealing with other people's attitudes toward death: "He's in a better place," "His suffering is over" (makes it sound like he's feeling just fine now), "He will be with you in spirit and will be looking down on you," etc.
When it comes to your own words, I'd recommend recalling his kindnesses, the way he helped and supported others, the lessons you learned from him, etc.
Physeter, I am so sorry.
Try not to blame yourself for not visiting your grandfather. You did the man no harm, and he's beyond harm now in any event. Mourning is hard enough; don't make it harder by picking on yourself. So give yourself a break. Your love for your grandfather is obviously genuine and deep, and that's what matters.
My sympathies are with you.
Don't work too hard being the only one to have ideas about what to write. You're writing it for other people, too, so don't be shy about asking other people (unless you feel it could be counter-productive for you or them).
I'm so sorry. Don't worry about grieving the right way. My therapist said you can go through those stages in any order and be in more than one at once. Take care of yourself while you go through this. They tell me it doesn't stop hurting but it stops being so constant and deep.
The funeral was hard today. Everyone seems so comforted by the thought that Grandpa is in heaven now.
They'll see him again someday, and ask all the questions they couldn't ask here, and hear the stories he wasn't able to tell. He's singing for Jesus now, he's rejoicing, he's back in the prime of his life and fit again.
I wonder if that's the most powerful thing religion has to offer. Apart from fear of hell, or even the promise that *I* can live forever...it's the promise that our loved ones aren't really gone. That though our loss feels great right now, we'll meet them again someday. I think I would handle this grief a lot better if I thought I could see him again someday.