Heroes

Tomorrow marks 7 years since my grandfather died. It was the summer between 8th grade and freshman year of high school. I remember celebrating my brithday with my friends the day before, and I remember the road trip we took later that summer that involved staying for 2 nights at that big, empty, house in New Mexico where everything was the same as it had always been, except Grandpa wasn't there.

I don't know how many people tend to remember things like their grandparents' passing away. I certainly don't have as much emotion attached to my grandmother's death as I do to this, even though Grandma was an amazing woman.

Thinking back over Grandpa's life - what I knew of him as well as what my Dad, grandmother, and Aunt have said - always gives me the same feeling anyone gets after watching a really inspiring movie or reading some great work of literature. It's hard to imagine working so hard, accomplishing so much, and doing so while still being one so kind, honest, compassionate, and caring so much for a family. It makes me want to ensure that that tradition and legacy doesn't just stop. For some reason, I always imagine living in New Mexico and travelling in outer space when I think of following in his footsteps. I imagine long trips, fascinating friends, having the parish priest over for dinner, and celebrating Christmas anywhere and everywhere.

7 years ago I wouldn't have imagined that this is where I'd be now. 7 years ago I was about to start high school; I was only dimly aware that some day I'd actually be out on my own working at a real job and starting my own life. I certainly hadn't completely wrapped my head around the difference between hopes/dreams and reality. I wouldn't have believed it for an instant if anyone had told me all of the amazing things that would happen in these intervening years, and I'm really glad that there was no way for me to have forseen some of the horrors I'd face also.

I guess it makes sense that this summer I'd worry more about where my life is going than I have before. I've ranted about that enough here before, so I'll skip the rehashing.

This past week hasn't been easy. I've gone through more drama and spent more hours being tense and worried than I have in a long time (thankfully). I've experienced firsthand the result of being so frustrated about one's life that one simply forgets how to accept the current reality. Actually, I've experienced the same kind of thing, in two completely different situations.

Comfortingly enough, though, I've also had some of the most satisfying conversations I've had in a long time. My Dad was talking about some friends of his that never had kids, and that had incredible careers instead, and he made a point of telling me and my brother how GLAD he is that he had kids instead. (I still think he's done a hell of alot, but that's another aside...) He's given me a lot of advice about the directions I might consider for my life, and I'm pretty excited for what lies ahead. The more I get to know my Dad, the more I really respect him, too. When I was a kid I took it for granted that pretty much everyone's Dad must be pretty much the same, but that's of course not true. I'm just glad that I'm getting the chances now that I am to talk with him as much as we do, and to hear his advice and perspectives as often as I do. I know that he won't always be here, either.

Loss isn't an easy thing to deal with. I lost a good friend this week, or it seems as though I did, at least. It's funny to think that he's still as alive as ever, but perhaps won't be a part of my life any more, and in a lot of ways it seems that I've died to him. I've done a lot of thinking about that situation, in between the other drama, and it's hard to explain the conclusion I've reached. I feel in some ways that what happened was inevitable - not that I would have, believe it or not, planned any of what happened, but I can see how the whole situation makes sense, unfortunately. I'm not sure what I could have done differently, and I'm positive that trying to explain my actions wouldn't change any of the hurt feelings, or do anything to change his opinion of me now. It hurt to see the way he characterized me in his reactions to everything that happened, but again...there's nothing I can really do. For some reason, I have this mental image of me holding my breath with my arms crossed, watching a door shut in front of me. I can only hope that some good of this comes for him, at least in terms of his feelings about himself. (If you're reading this - no, I didn't miss the significance of your giving me a French name, nor did I realize that you didn't intend for me to see that until I thought about it later. In any case, I do miss your friendship.)

So.

I'm still learning. I'm still not the person I'd like to be, but I'm not afraid of myself anymore. Maybe it's because right now I need to have some self confidence, or I won't have anything to stand on a year from now, or maybe it's because there's actually something there. I've seen enough in the past week to know the dangers of relying too much on one's own perceptions, but I'm still willing to stand on my own feet a bit here.

And, Grandpa? I miss you.