I can't believe that it's already been over that my Bammy (grandpa) has been gone. I still can't believe he is actually gone. Sometimes I momentarily forget and those are the times I am happiest. But then I remember. I think the physical distance that separated us is what is making this so hard.
Tonight I was thinking about him and I remembered one of the last times I was with him we were watching the news while I ate some dinner before going back to the fair and it came on TV. We watched it quietly and then he said, "you know, I really miss going to the fair every year." I didn't really say anything, because I obviously felt sad about it too for him.
It's just crazy that someone that was SO full of life and yet was so physically challenged (he had difficulty walking and in his last few months couldn't at all) was and had to be taken from us. It just isn't fair.
I remember a few times that he had bad spills and wound up in the hospital he was so afraid to die. And he lived for his grandchildren. That's what kept him going. He had such an extreme love for kids. He was proud of everyone and anyone, no matter who they were, what they did...
Anyway, I'm just having a bad night. Actually, I have bad nights pretty often now. I don't expect anyone to read this or reply, I just needed to get this out.
I am supposed to be writing a personal narrative for my English class, and was originally writing it on him. He hadn't passed away yet when I first started writing it, but then he did. Now I have no idea how to write it. Or what to change. I've been avoiding writing it. I'll probably fail the class if I don't get it done.
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