Christmas: Grandpa and a Final Present
For as long as I can remember, Christmas Eve has been an evening set aside to spend with Mom's side of the family. That means that for all of my life, my mother, father, sister and I would head to Grandma's to have dinner and exchange presents with my grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, and three cousins.
Mom's side of the family is Italian so our Christmas dinner has always consisted of several pasta and seafood dishes (and chicken and fish-free pasta sauce for me), a ton of cookies and treats, and all of us fitting around a single table.
Previous years have seen the additions of mom's boyfriends, Christina's boyfriend->fiance->husband, Anna's boyfriend, Melissa's girlfriend->partner...
And this is the first year that we spent Christmas without Grandpa.
The evening went as it usually did, with lots of cooking, music, catching up, sneaking cookies, that sort of thing. We stuffed ourselves silly at the table, exchanged stories that probably didn't belong at the dinner table, especially one for the holidays (Anna and Andrew both teach children and had a slew of stories, not to mention the usual raunchy types...) and we exchanged a lot of old stories as well. How one cousin used to suck their thumb for years, how I once attacked a bowl of apples when I was three by taking a bite out of each one and carefully putting it back in the bowl so none of the bites showed and no one realized anything until much later, or how several members of the family have attempted a slew of ambitious experiments in the kitchens. Some turned out well, others did not but were of course memorable for that fact.
The tables were arranged differently and so where there was usually Grandpa at the head of the table was now a sideways table instead, where both Grandma, Melissa, and Uncle Freddy sat. I don't think anyone really felt Grandpa missing or that anyone was sitting in seat because it just...didn't look the same.
Eventually we did the dishes (the boys in Grandma's aprons) and cleaned up after dinner and piled into the living room for presents. It was wonderful and lovely and god, I thought that it would be okay. That this year we would get through the holiday and not cry like we did at Thanksgiving.
And then when all of the presents were passed out, Grandma told Anna to look under the dolls in the sled to pull out the last presents, and there was an envelope for each of us cousins.
"To Marianne. Love, Grandpa."
I hadn't even opened it and I felt my eyes getting misty. I admit I was expecting a final letter from Grandpa. Something handwritten maybe from before he passed.
What we found inside however, was a check. I won't name the sum but suffice to say it was considerable. Grandma explained that Grandpa had a stipulation that came with this gift. It was not to be used to pay bills, or rent, or anything responsible. It was to go toward something fun for ourselves. A present, a vacation, something good that would leave us with good memories.
We all started crying. Even Nick, who I never saw shed a tear through the entire week between Grandpa's death and the funeral. I think that tonight it just really hit us all hard and it was entirely overwhelming.
I'm still overwhelmed. Even after Andrew was able to get us laughing and chatting like we had been, I was still left feeling...just...so emotional.
I drove past the memorial park on the way home and found myself crying again over the generosity of his gift and the reminder that he's really gone.
I love all of my grandparents a great deal but of all of them, I have spent the most time with my grandparents on my mother's side of the family. I think I've mentioned before how kind and wonderful my grandfather was, and in times like these it's hard not to feel the loss now that he's passed. I have so many wonderful memories of him, and in many ways they're a comfort, but it's also those moments that make it hurt all the more that he's gone.
I am so entirely grateful for the time we had together though. Nearly thirty years of him in my life.
I don't know what I'm going to do with the gift. I'll probably think it over a long while and...eventually write some of those ideas down, open it up to discussion tonight.
But until then, I think what I'll treasure the most and think about through this holiday break, is how completely appreciative I am of everything he did and was to me while he was alive. I cannot hope to be as kind or generous or as good a person as he was, but he showed me an example of who and what I could strive to be. Maybe I'll come close someday.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Mom's side of the family is Italian so our Christmas dinner has always consisted of several pasta and seafood dishes (and chicken and fish-free pasta sauce for me), a ton of cookies and treats, and all of us fitting around a single table.
Previous years have seen the additions of mom's boyfriends, Christina's boyfriend->fiance->husband, Anna's boyfriend, Melissa's girlfriend->partner...
And this is the first year that we spent Christmas without Grandpa.
The evening went as it usually did, with lots of cooking, music, catching up, sneaking cookies, that sort of thing. We stuffed ourselves silly at the table, exchanged stories that probably didn't belong at the dinner table, especially one for the holidays (Anna and Andrew both teach children and had a slew of stories, not to mention the usual raunchy types...) and we exchanged a lot of old stories as well. How one cousin used to suck their thumb for years, how I once attacked a bowl of apples when I was three by taking a bite out of each one and carefully putting it back in the bowl so none of the bites showed and no one realized anything until much later, or how several members of the family have attempted a slew of ambitious experiments in the kitchens. Some turned out well, others did not but were of course memorable for that fact.
The tables were arranged differently and so where there was usually Grandpa at the head of the table was now a sideways table instead, where both Grandma, Melissa, and Uncle Freddy sat. I don't think anyone really felt Grandpa missing or that anyone was sitting in seat because it just...didn't look the same.
Eventually we did the dishes (the boys in Grandma's aprons) and cleaned up after dinner and piled into the living room for presents. It was wonderful and lovely and god, I thought that it would be okay. That this year we would get through the holiday and not cry like we did at Thanksgiving.
And then when all of the presents were passed out, Grandma told Anna to look under the dolls in the sled to pull out the last presents, and there was an envelope for each of us cousins.
"To Marianne. Love, Grandpa."
I hadn't even opened it and I felt my eyes getting misty. I admit I was expecting a final letter from Grandpa. Something handwritten maybe from before he passed.
What we found inside however, was a check. I won't name the sum but suffice to say it was considerable. Grandma explained that Grandpa had a stipulation that came with this gift. It was not to be used to pay bills, or rent, or anything responsible. It was to go toward something fun for ourselves. A present, a vacation, something good that would leave us with good memories.
We all started crying. Even Nick, who I never saw shed a tear through the entire week between Grandpa's death and the funeral. I think that tonight it just really hit us all hard and it was entirely overwhelming.
I'm still overwhelmed. Even after Andrew was able to get us laughing and chatting like we had been, I was still left feeling...just...so emotional.
I drove past the memorial park on the way home and found myself crying again over the generosity of his gift and the reminder that he's really gone.
I love all of my grandparents a great deal but of all of them, I have spent the most time with my grandparents on my mother's side of the family. I think I've mentioned before how kind and wonderful my grandfather was, and in times like these it's hard not to feel the loss now that he's passed. I have so many wonderful memories of him, and in many ways they're a comfort, but it's also those moments that make it hurt all the more that he's gone.
I am so entirely grateful for the time we had together though. Nearly thirty years of him in my life.
I don't know what I'm going to do with the gift. I'll probably think it over a long while and...eventually write some of those ideas down, open it up to discussion tonight.
But until then, I think what I'll treasure the most and think about through this holiday break, is how completely appreciative I am of everything he did and was to me while he was alive. I cannot hope to be as kind or generous or as good a person as he was, but he showed me an example of who and what I could strive to be. Maybe I'll come close someday.
Merry Christmas everyone.