Best of Times; Worst of Times

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For the third time this year, I am a pallbearer at the funeral of a grandparent. It didn't really come as a surprise. My father invited me to travel with him New Years Day this year to visit them all because he expected them all to die this year. I guess we just didn't expect to lose them all within a six week period. What I did find interesting was the reaction of other family members and the place I ended up playing at the funerals. I'm doing my best to keep it under control, but it hurts me too.

Despite the fact that I loved them just as much as everyone else, many of my cousins seemed much more hurt by the deaths of my grandparents than I did. Perhaps it's because, despite the distance I lived from my grandparents, I went out of my way to have a relationship with them. In addition to family trips for vacations, visits, etc., I made two trips every year starting in 2008 to where my grandparents lived and tried to visit them when time and weather allowed. I called them periodically, even though I didn't have anything particularly positive to report, and I returned their letters when they wrote. My paternal grandmother told me that some of her grandchildren never communicated with her, and although they were there the day before she died, I don't think they had a good relationship with her.

Partly, I have my ex wife to thank for this. After she divorced me, I was suddenly free to visit family and participate in events with my own blood. By this happy accident, a blessing disguised as a trial transformed my relationship with family. Although by then we were no longer doing family reunions, I had time and money to make these trips. Since I was no longer with her, I was able to build a relationship with my kid sister, and it was because of that relationship that I made visits to my sister when she was in graduate school and to take her to see things that brought me near to the homes of my grandparents. That's not why my ex wife divorced me, but it was a happy accident, and I am glad I availed myself of the opportunity.

Since I am an adult, and since I took the time seriously, I had serious and substantive conversations with my grandparents. I would like to have asked them a few questions now that I didn't think to ask back then, but we did talk about things of the moment and things of eternal momentum. I also remember the last words they said to me. My paternal grandfather told me, 36 hours before he died when I called to arrange a time to visit when I was in the area that April, to "say hello to all the pretty girls on campus". I think he knew that since I spend most of my time there that was where I was likely to find social and romantic opportunities. My maternal grandfather told me back in January when I visited after I told him a lame joke (all my jokes are bad) and he laughed, "You're all right." My paternal grandmother told me 14 hours before she died after I told her that I loved her "Keep being the great man that you are. Can you please wipe my eyes?" I made her cry, and she couldn't wipe them herself. Those are great last words. I remind my students, my peers and anyone else who will listen that people leave the last thing on the screen that they want people to remember, and so those are interesting final remarks.

Very few of my coworkers have had anything to say, but those who have were supportive and compassionate. My students do not know. My coworkers need to know why I'm gone in the middle of the work week since they rely on me for their courses. Some of them have thought about their own losses and reminded me that there is a special bond with grandparents if you take the time. Many people do not have good relationships with their own parents, but even many of those people tell me that they do get along well with their grandparents, and I am glad to hear that. In my case, as well as in the stories to which I refer, grandparents are a source of love without condemnation. They love us because they love us. They may not like what we do, but they love us. I can tell from the nonverbal and verbal interactions with my cousins that some of them regret not availing themselves of the opportunity to build relationships, particularly those who lived nearby and had means but who passed up on the opportunities. The fact that I am in the funeral program for my grandma Ruth says, per my father, that she felt a special kinship with me. I am neither the eldest nor the only grandson.

None of these events came as a surprise except for the timing. Dad thought we would lose them all this year. Interestingly enough, their average age at death was 90, meaning they lived long and full lives up until near the end and didn't suffer as much as others. We just didn't think they'd all be gone completely in six weeks. My sister appropriately opined, "2015 really sucks" and talked with me about the fact that there is no reason to visit that town anymore. We have no base of operations, and the core of our family is not there. I live closer to my parents than anyone else. Grandma's house was a place of refuge, a place of comfort, and a place of love. I remember my paternal grandmother insisting on feeding me every time I visited, offering to pay me for every errand I ran, and patiently listening to my incorrect or asinine opinions on a myriad of topics before gently correcting me. She knew how to reprove with love, and I'm just sorry I didn't understand that until I was 30. Thank God I was divorced or I might never have known!

I took up a different role at these funerals than one might think. Yes, I am also hurt, but several of my aunts mentioned to my parents that I was sensitive and touching and supportive beyond my years and far beyond my position in the family. I remember telling my mom's oldest sister when she told me she felt silly to be sad because others had lost their parents, "That may be true, but you are the one losing them now, and you are the one who needs our comfort and love." Sometimes I surprise myself. It was good to see family, to share love, and to get together. Surely, it was the best of times even during the worst of times.