Opa

So Tuesday night I learned that my grandfather died.

I stayed up much later than usual trying to process, but I knew I couldn't fly out to California for the funeral. I didn't want to leave work during the first week, although obviously I could and would have if necessary. But I'm ambivalent about flying this pregnant and also my family all agreed there wasn't much purpose in my coming. Nonetheless, it's been very hard to be away from them.

Wednesday morning I had an oncologist follow-up appointment (during which I learned that I'll have one more CT scan in 2007 and then should be DONE permanently!) It was rainy outside and I felt moody. Didn't realize how much of it had to do with Opa's death until I arrived at school into a team meeting and of course burst into tears.

Still, I chose to stay at work (I don't know if that was the right choice and imagine you blog readers judging it badly, but it actually seemed a safe place to be and I didn't know what I'd do at home). My assistant was ready to take over at a moment's notice if asked.

By the end of the day I was exhausted, nauseous and my head hurt. So I reluctantly cancelled a tutoring session, went home and slept for an hour. I just completely knocked out. That night I slept another 8 or 9, getting up in the middle of the night and tending to a headache for awhile.

Somehow I find it comorting when my body responds that way to something. It's like I don't have to make a decision of what to do for myself. My body just tells me.

Yesterday morning before the funeral my parents and I talked for awhile on the phone. The truth is, I've never been that close to this grandparent and I've always sort of wondered why. I didn't know if it was me or him. My dad learned a lot from this visit of just how well-loved Opa has been in his own world and I am coming to understand why he hasn't interacted that much in my world.

I guess I don't know what's right to say here. An obituary was printed in his local newspaper and when it gets online I'll revise this entry and add it in.

I'll leave this though. There's a children's book called The Story of Ferdinand. All the other bulls are rough and tough and fight all day, but Ferdinand likes to sit quietly and smell the flowers. One day when the men are coming to recruit bulls for a bull fight, Ferdinand accidentally sits on a bee, jumps up in fright, and the men take him away thinking they've found the most ferocious bull of all. But when Ferdinand is led into the bullfighting ring and all the Senoras and Senoritas throw their flowers into the ring, he just sits down to smell them.

That's how I picture my grandfather. Always calm and unassuming despite living through horribly turbulent times and conditions.

More later...