Let It Be
The Beatles. Classic.
So far, I have basically tracked you through my life from my first tragedy through 2009 (roughly). Next, my Great Uncle Bob (on my dad's side) passed of old age. He was the stereotypical scrooge of an old man. Like I'm talking answered the phone with "what do you want?" kind of grumpy old man. I was never super close with him, but he was always very sweet to my very innocent and pure self (not so much anymore. Oh, if he only knew... More on that later). I would sit on his lap and he would tell me stories, nothing monumental in that relationship, but still good family I saw fairly often. Basically, all I remember is the fact he died near St. Patrick's Day (the 14th of March to be exact), so I got to pick out a little St. Patrick's Day doll to give him in the nursing home. My parents and I took it to him, and I gave it to him, and he loved it. He sat it next to him in his bed. He died the next day, and his girlfriend, MaryJane, decided to let me keep it. I still have that doll. Several years later, I was going through toys I had (because, let's be honest, I was a hoarder of stuffed animals), and my sister Lauren was helping me sort through which ones to give away. Before thinking, she threw the plush doll in the "give away" pile. I burst into tears. Of course, she had no idea that I got that after he died, so she had no clue why I was crying hysterically.
Several years later, his friend MaryJane died, too. Again, the relationship wasn't close by any means, but she was still family. She still came to our family functions. Little background on my dad's side of the family: we got together for everything. We grouped birthdays of my cousins, sisters and I to celebrate, we got together for Memorial Day and Mother's Day and Father's Day. Basically, if we got a day off school for it or it was in a calendar from the store (except Flag Day because who the fuck celebrated Flag Day), we got together as a family to celebrate. And, despite not being blood related or even technically related by marriage, MaryJane would be there, even after Great Uncle Bob died.
I know these two deaths don't seem too significant. I mean the entry is relatively short for being about two people I loved, but that's the thing. I still loved them. It still hurt having them being walked in a casket down the isle of a church, following closely behind. It still hurt sitting in the pews of a church my PawPaw and Great Uncle Bob grew up going to, and listen to the Priest give a speech about death. I don't think that pain ever goes away... You just let it sit there.
So far, I have basically tracked you through my life from my first tragedy through 2009 (roughly). Next, my Great Uncle Bob (on my dad's side) passed of old age. He was the stereotypical scrooge of an old man. Like I'm talking answered the phone with "what do you want?" kind of grumpy old man. I was never super close with him, but he was always very sweet to my very innocent and pure self (not so much anymore. Oh, if he only knew... More on that later). I would sit on his lap and he would tell me stories, nothing monumental in that relationship, but still good family I saw fairly often. Basically, all I remember is the fact he died near St. Patrick's Day (the 14th of March to be exact), so I got to pick out a little St. Patrick's Day doll to give him in the nursing home. My parents and I took it to him, and I gave it to him, and he loved it. He sat it next to him in his bed. He died the next day, and his girlfriend, MaryJane, decided to let me keep it. I still have that doll. Several years later, I was going through toys I had (because, let's be honest, I was a hoarder of stuffed animals), and my sister Lauren was helping me sort through which ones to give away. Before thinking, she threw the plush doll in the "give away" pile. I burst into tears. Of course, she had no idea that I got that after he died, so she had no clue why I was crying hysterically.
Several years later, his friend MaryJane died, too. Again, the relationship wasn't close by any means, but she was still family. She still came to our family functions. Little background on my dad's side of the family: we got together for everything. We grouped birthdays of my cousins, sisters and I to celebrate, we got together for Memorial Day and Mother's Day and Father's Day. Basically, if we got a day off school for it or it was in a calendar from the store (except Flag Day because who the fuck celebrated Flag Day), we got together as a family to celebrate. And, despite not being blood related or even technically related by marriage, MaryJane would be there, even after Great Uncle Bob died.
I know these two deaths don't seem too significant. I mean the entry is relatively short for being about two people I loved, but that's the thing. I still loved them. It still hurt having them being walked in a casket down the isle of a church, following closely behind. It still hurt sitting in the pews of a church my PawPaw and Great Uncle Bob grew up going to, and listen to the Priest give a speech about death. I don't think that pain ever goes away... You just let it sit there.
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