On June 15th, 2012 my parents sat me down and told me that my Uncle, my dad's older brother, had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. A few weeks later I was told that the brain tumor was cancerous. In January, I found out that my grandfather, my mom's dad, had been diagnosed with lung cancer that had spread to his back and throat. I was devastated and I prayed that God would heal them.
On May 11th, 2013 my dad called me at school and told me that they had given my uncle 6 months. I cried for hours, praying that God would take the brain tumor away. Five days later, my dad called to tell me that my grandfather, who was in the hospital because of pneumonia, was doing poorly and his blood pressure had just dropped. I emailed all my professors to tell them I wouldn't be in classes for the rest of the week, packed my clothes, and went to get gas so that I could drive the 5 hours to my grandparents house. As I was getting gas, my mom called and told me she didn't want me to be on the road. I broke down. I just wanted to be there with my family. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I wanted to be there so badly.
Over the next few weeks, my parents and I discussed back and forth the merits of me driving up to see my grandfather and the rest of my family, but I never did. The weekend before finals came and my mom told me I needed to come up to see him one last time as soon as I finished my finals Tuesday May 7th because she believed that he wouldn't make it until Saturday the 11th, which was when I planned to move out of my dorm. He didn't make it until Saturday. My Pops passed away May 6th. The last time I saw him was Easter Sunday.
I drove home two days earlier than I had originally planned to attend his funeral. I missed two of my best friend's wedding and my roommate and multiple other friends' graduation. I spent the weekend mourning my Pops' death and reminiscing about his life. A lot of my dad's family came to offer their condolences to the family, including my uncle. The outing wore him out, but he came anyway. On our way home, my dad, siblings, and I stopped by my aunt, uncle, and cousin's to see them. We stayed for a short time, saw my grandparents, and then drove home.
Two weeks later, for Memorial Day, we drove up to my grandparents' lake house to help my grandmother open it up without my grandfather. It wasn't easy. My Pops did everything on his own. We didn't know where anything was or how he had always done things. On Memorial Day my dad, one of my sisters, and I had to leave to drive home because I needed to get ready to head to Maryland for my summer nanny job. On the way home, we stopped by my aunt, uncle, and cousins' once again. We had fun. I got to talk to my cousin for a long time and I got to see my uncle again. That was the last time I saw my uncle.
On May 29th, I flew to Maryland. One week later, my cousin called and said, "He's gone." I cried. I booked a flight to Atlanta for Friday evening after I finished for the day and flew to be with my family. I spent the weekend with my cousin and, for the most part, we joked around like normal. Or as normal as it could be. Yesterday, I flew back to Maryland to continue my job. But it's not over for me.
I'm grieving. I'm not coping with everything well. I'm 19 years old and, within 30 days I lost two of the most important men in my life. I can't even begin to imagine life without them. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that they are dead. I'm not okay with the fact that the last time I saw my grandfather was a month before he died. Everyone tells me that I was exactly where he wanted me to be, finishing my schoolwork and doing well, but it doesn't offer any consolation. I miss them both more than words can express.
I hate that my siblings and cousins have lost a grandfather, especially the little ones. I had almost twenty years with him, my baby sister only had five. I hate that my grandmother is alone after 48 years together and that my uncle, aunt, and mother have lost their father. Holidays and weekends at the lake will never be the same. Life will never be the same.
I hate that my aunt has lost her husband after 22 years. I hate that my 16 and 19 year-old cousins have lost their father before so many important events in their lives. I hate that my grandparents have lost their son. I hate that my uncle and father have lost their brother. But most of all I hate that all of this has happened to my family.
I said above that I'm not coping well, but I'm coping in the only way I can. Yes, I'm hiding from everything that has happened in things that aren't real. But I have to do so right now. If I didn't, I'd be curled up in a ball on my bed not moving. I have to hide the reality as much as I can so that I can make it through every day. So, to everyone saying that they're worried about me; that's fine. But you don't know what I'm going through right now, so don't say anything. Avoid the subject. Stop telling me you're worried about me and tell me what you did. Make me laugh. Tell me stupid jokes or tease me about my height. That makes me feel thousands of times better than just hearing that you're worrying because I'm not coping the way you think I need to cope. Check up on me every few days and tell me that you love me and care for me. Be willing to help me in small stupid ways. Avoid things that you know are going to frustrate me. Take care of planning things that as a group we should all be working on together, don't make me worry because we haven't even begun planning. Remember that I am female and prone to a roller coaster of emotions on a good day and so much more right now.
Remind me that things will get better. Pray for me. Pray for my family because this is going to be a long journey for all of us. Skype with me and talk about stupid things. Allow me to text you stupid tv show quotes without me feeling like you're going to get onto me.
But most of all: Allow me to deal with my grief in the way I think best. There is no one in the entire world who is feeling the way I do. There is no one in the entire world who copes the same way I do. There is no one that knows exactly how close I was to my family. My grandfather and uncle were more than extended family. My immediate family is larger than just the 7 of us who live in a log cabin in Alabama. My immediate family has always included the 7 of us, 4 grandparents, 4 aunts, 4 uncles, and 7 first cousins. And now I'm missing 2 vital men to my life and family unit. My siblings have the same kind of family I do, but even they don't feel the same way I do. I've known my grandfather and uncle longer than any sibling or cousin because I was born first. They held me as a baby. They played with me as a young child. They took me places all throughout my childhood. They let me stay in their houses with them whenever I needed to. My grandfather taught me to ski and would never play games. My uncle was always there for me to talk to. They disciplined me, comforted me, joked with me, and watched me grow. They were present at my High School graduation but will never see me graduate from college or get married. And it's these things that I have to deal with every day.
So, let me deal with my grief the way I need to deal with my grief. Let me find a way to get up every morning and get through my day without feeling as if I need to curl up and stay there. I'm coping the best way I can right now and I promise, one day, I will get better. But for now, this is how I'm dealing with my grief.
