The Road

A few days ago I had to say goodbye to the only Grandfather I had ever known. Sadly, I was 15 minutes too late from seeing him take his last breath. My mom told me a few weeks back that he wasn't doing the greatest, but I guess I just assumed I had more time to go and visit him before his end would come. My family hasn't been very close for several years...how do I say this..?..years of family conflict has made it hard for me to understand where I stand in everyone's eyes and possibly where they stand in my own. We all have our own stories that shaped the person we have become today, and my story is one I've only told to a few. Sometimes I think life in general would maybe be easier if I opened up to others more, but then I realize I might lose some of the control I have on my life, so I remain stoic in many of my thoughts.

I've never lost anyone in my family before, other than my Grandma Sweet around 15 years ago. I had only met her a couple times, and strangely, I feel more sadness now about her death than I did all those years ago. Maybe because I was young then and didn't understand much about life, or maybe because I'm older now and starting my own family.

The memories I have of my Grandpa Hanssen are all good ones. When I was a young child, both of my grandparents played what I considered a significant role in my life. I remember being at their house a lot, picking apples from their trees, the basement smelling like moth balls, having Christmas dinner, their dog Wags, when they put the addition on their house, and going to church with them at the Bread of Life Church. I also remember all the car rides we would take...it probably wasn't that many, but I remember going up to Spencer many times to see my aunt Melinda and her family. I still remember that old green car he used to drive with the uncomfortable looking seat covers.

A lot of time has passed since those days, and many things have changed. And even though I'm not very close to much of my extended family, my grandfather's death hurt me just the same. I often wonder what my life could have been like if my story was different. Would I still be me? Or could I have been better version of me?

As I type this, I can feel the little one inside of me kick from time to time. I am reminded of how thankful I am for where my life has ended up, even though the road leading here wasn't very easy.