There are no words for this

It's hard to know what to say, where to begin when a loved one dies. It's a feeling I haven't really had to deal with in my life up till now. I've had the odd great-aunt/great-uncle pass, and my mother's father died before I was born, but in my lifetime I haven't had to deal with a close relative (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, immediate family) passing. Until now.

Early (ish) Saturday morning, March 27, 2010, I received a phone call from my mother to let me know that my grandfather (my father's father), Weldon Keesler Hamrick, Sr., had died in the night. He had numerous health problems at the end of his life. His passing was not a shock, but can one ever really be ready when the inevitable happens? Apparently he had opted to try one more medical procedure to prolong his life, instead of electing home hospice.

The funeral was yesterday morning, in North Carolina where he had lived his whole life. My entire family was there. It was a big disappointment to me to be so far away and thus unable to attend. My brothers all got to be pallbearers.

Ironically, it's hard to know how to grieve. Obviously, he is missed by every one who knew and loved him. But we never lived close enough to get the full "grandparent experience" - it's a long drive between Indiana and North Carolina. It's easy enough to rationalize and say that it was for the best, he's not suffering any more, it wasn't a huge surprise, but these are simple platitudes used to cover over the dull ache that says "he's gone for good." Who wants a loved one to die?

It would be easy to dwell on the misfortune of losing a grandparent, but I would rather remember him alive - smoking his pipe outside, walking around the garden, his smile and laugh and the way he talked. The pictures I have from his operation when I was a baby and he was holding me in the hospital. The pictures of him as a young man, when he married my grandmother. The stories my grandmother always told about him - about her first memory of him, and about how she would come up behind him when he was sitting down and kiss the back of his neck (a habit I've also formed with my husband).

And although the death of a loved one sucks, death is still a part of life, and I am glad to know that my dear, beloved grandfather is now in a better place.