The last memory I have of my grandfather was at his country home in La Buitrera, Cali. He was telling morbid jokes and toasting for health and happiness with his favorite drink, aguardiente. His blue eyes always twinkled and his white hair and few wrinkles were the only indicator of his old age. This was years ago. That was the last time I saw him. He was healthy, he was happy, he was surrounded by all the family, all the many granddaughters who loved him, his daughters who tolerated his crazy mood swings and his high-energy enthusiasm, his son, of sorts, since he wasn't his offspring but his nephew, but being raised by the man gave them the title of father and son, coupled with infinite love; and his wife, who stood by his side for over 50 years, through infidelities and angry tantrums... He always liked the ladies, of all shapes and sizes. His wandering eye is something I'll never forget.
I'm selfish. And I am glad my last memory of him is that and not of him laying in a sick bed. I heard he'd been reduced to bones and flesh, his memory faulty, his spunk missing and his days of happiness reduced to naps and complaints about his many aches and pains. I'm glad he's gone. I'm glad he's now resting or toasting with aguardiente with the angels above... Since no one can really say what happens after death, this is what I wish to believe, that it's all giant party followed by nap time upon fluffy clouds.
He's gone. We've stayed. Another person I now have in heaven.
Also yesterday, I was surprised by myself. I did something I should have never done. I read something I didn't want to read. That's not me. But apparently it is. To be capable of doing something I once considered to be so appalling is incredible to me. Incredulous, that's how I feel about myself. I wish I hadn't, I wish I could trust blindly. He's trying, or is he? I don't even know anymore. I don't know what's right, what's wrong, what's real, what stands in my dreamland. All I know is that I am in love with him and I want to believe everything will be alright. He says he loves me and he holds me tight against him and I want to believe everything will be okay.
Who knows? I sure don't.
My grandpa, his wife and me. 15 years ago.
*Currently listening to Ojala by Silvio Rodriguez*
Hmm...
ReplyDeleteYesterday, I did something that one of my friends - told me that when he did it. He said. There will be three dates on my grave. The date I was born. Yesterday. And the date of my death.
It was pretty wild. All of this is pretty wild.
Everything here. I don't fully understand it.
You have a recessive gene for blue eyes! Wow.
And you are totally good looking in this picture.
Ugh. I know thats kind of distractive . But
pictures of you are few and far between.
Look for a post from me, ok? Tonight?
I just got the kids + I am trying to find the time to post - but I am snuggling up with a good book for a while before I belt this next post out.
It's a mind blower. You're going to like it.
:)
Ancient chinese wisdom..
ReplyDeleteMy date is 3 27 10