There.
I have warned you, my intention is clear, and you can either proceed with caution or vacate my blog.
Yesterday my parents drove my sister and I out to Fort Snelling National Cemetery to view my grandma's resting place for the first time since this January; and as we drove through the usual rows and rows of headstones, I felt my heart growing heavier and heavier. As we filled our flower holders with water, and walked the grassy expanse towards the graves I have visited since the second grade, I felt my composure begin to break. And when I saw the tiny sprigs of grass beginning to grow over the hole where my dearest relative is now buried, I began to sob.
It is incomprehensible for me to understand how I have been visiting this place for 9 years now, to lay flowers at the resting places of those I either remember fleetingly, in childhood memories and rationalizations, or one that I consider to be one of my best friends.
It is incomprehensible for me to explain to people how broken I feel out there, standing over the fresh earth that covers my grandma and brushing the stony placards that serve as fleeting reminders to my grandfathers.
It is, therefore, incomprehensible to me how people can turn and look at me and say,
"God, I wish they didn't even come to my shows, they are so embarrassing!"
or,
"I hate having to talk to my grandparents, it's so awkward!"
You have no idea how much I envy you.
I would give ANYTHING to have my grandparents back; to be able to talk to my grandfathers, ask if they are proud of the woman I'm becoming or if they've been able to see me perform; or to just have my grandma hold me and tell me that she forgives me for not singing for her as much as she asked, but how grateful she is that I sang for her at her service. I can only hope that I am making them proud, as I kneel and pray that they stay with me each evening as I fall asleep. I would give anything for even a moment with them.
And yet, there you are, expecting me to laugh alongside you, and look with disappointment at people who love you more than you will ever know. No, I don't know your family's circumstances; no, I don't know how close you are; and no, I don't pretend to be the perfect person. But every time you scorn these people it makes me sick.
I don't pretend to have all the answers, and I'm not saying I was the perfect grandchild either. But take it from a girl who has had death in her life since elementary school, you will regret every one of those instances as soon as you get that phone call. Don't wait until Memorial Day to appreciate those people in your life. Don't pass up those trips to visit, don't forgo the opportunity to sit by them at dinner, and don't ever forget to tell them that you love them. Because one day you will wake up, whether it be when you are in high school or as an adult, and you will find them gone. And you will remain, with only the millions of things you wish that you could have done or said.
O Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone and all the roses falling;
It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.
Yes, I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so!
But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying,
If I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me;
And oh my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
For you will bend and tell me that you love me;
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!
I love you Grandpa Cyril, Grandpa Myles, and Grandma Helen. I know that we will meet again, and I want you to know that you are always in my heart.
