Years have a way of passing by lightening fast. So fast that you could get whiplash trying to catch them as they fly by.
I ruminate today on how 21 years could have passed me by so fast. That many years since my granddaddy walked this earth.
Sometimes it seems like its been forever since I saw him.
Ask me another time, and I would swear, with breathless certainty, that it seems like just yesterday.
I miss his face.
Time doesn't heal all wounds, gentle readers. No. No. Sometimes it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. But time puts distance between you and the visceral, knee jerk pain. That goes away. The dull ache. That doesn't.
And, really... would you want it to?
For me, the pain of my grandfather's death is part of the joy of the memory of his life. It's all wrapped up in how very much I loved him. How much I love him today. I think that its okay to say that some pains don't go away. Some sorrow grafts itself into the DNA of who you are.
Ignoring it doesn't make it go away. Denying that it exists just seems to... I don't know- rob you of an important part of who you are. Am I saying that one should through themselves into the deep pit of terrible sorrow?... no. There is a balance.
I can say that I miss Winston. So much it hurts, still. But I can talk about that old man with joy. With absolute joy. I am so proud to hold his memory. I can laugh and giggle and smile boldly when I think on the time I had with him. That's the balance. That's how it all wraps itself together.
That's the amazing thing about the passage of time. That something can hurt & bring joy all at the same time.
And, after 21 years- that's what I'm thinking about today.