Long overdue personal update.
This blog entry is not meant to inspire or cause discussion, or anything else. It is merely being written because I have been dealing with alot recently and need to let it out. If you don't want to hear me complain, stop reading here.
As many of you know, my grandfather passed away Dec. 6th, 2006. This was 4 days before I was supposed to return from 4 months of studying abroad in England. I made arrangements to postpone a final and switch flights and I left Leeds. After 30 hours on trains, in airports, and on planes, I finally made it back to Pittsburgh to see my grandfather laying in a coffin. I only had about 15 minutes with him as the funeral home was already supposed to be closed and they had given us a little extra time on my account. That night was one of the most confusing nights I have ever had. I spent the night half in tears of sadness and half in tears of joy. I gave my family souvenirs from my 4 months through 15 countries, but couldn't help but notice the empty chair that was usually my grandfather's. Of all the souvenirs I brought home, only one had broken: The crucifix that I bought in Scotland for my grandfather. I cried myself to sleep that night. The next morning was the funeral itself. Suffering from jet lag, depression, and a feeling of not belonging that I cannot describe, I stood quietly in the pew next to my brother and sister, until I couldn't keep it in any longer. I then stared at this wooden box that would be the eternal home for my grandfather's body and wept uncontrollably.
Let me take a moment and explain some of my feelings leading up to this point: Most of you know me pretty well, and most of you know that when things are bothering me I am usually pretty good about talking to anyone who will listen to help ease the problem. Things were different with my grandfather's death. I had been out of the country for 4 months. The only familiar faces I saw the whole time were 4 classmates who were studying abroad with me. Some of them had been my friends before, and the others I had become friends with during the time abroad. As the semester was coming to an end, I was very homesick. I was counting the days until I could see my family and friends again. Then, as I answered my phone (through my computer) I heard my sister say "Bill, Mom and Dad weren't sure if they should tell you this since you have finals next week and enough on your mind, but I knew that you would want to know: Grandpa fell while no one was home and isn't doing too great. He is in the hospital." At this point, no one knew what the extent of the injuries were except that his face was in bad shape, apparently from hitting his walker and/or the wall before hitting the ground. That night I cried myself to sleep, praying to God. The next couple of days I was getting updates from my family. They found that my grandfather had broken his neck. At first they said he may never come home again, but he should make a full recovery. Then, for unknown reasons, he started doing better, and one doctor or nurse made the comment that he may be able to be transferred to a nursing home in a couple of weeks, and possibly make it home again with more constant care and supervision. The next day, after my first final, I got a call from my parents telling me to prepare for the worst. The hospital had called early in the morning to tell my parents to call of work and come straight to the hospital. Overnight he had gone drastically down hill. I could do nothing but cry as my mom told me that they were trying to keep him alive long enough for me to see him when I got home. I had been researching the possibility of changing my flight to get home a day early because at this point alot could change in 24 hours. I spoke with my sister as she was driving from Ohio back to Pittsburgh. I asked her what she thought about coming home a day early. She said that at this point, she didn't know if that 1 day would be enough. A couple hours later, I was studying with a friend for our second final when my computer made the all too familiar ringing sound of my family calling. When I answered, I heard my brother in the weakest voice I had ever hear him use tell me "Bill, Grandpa just passed away." At that moment I lost any control over my feelings that I might have had. Here I was, over 3000 miles away from home, listening through my computer as my grandfather got hurt, spent time in the hospital, and died. I could do nothing. I couldn't get home in time to see him. It had been over 4 months since I had seen him last. He had gone to my uncle's house while we went on vacation before I left for England. And now I was never going to see him again. This was the worst feeling I have ever felt. I was alone. I felt lost. I felt helpless.
Now, to fast forward to this semester. I have spent most of this semester with a fake smile on my face. I have been detached most of the semester. I have been blaming problems on everything, from too much school work to girl problems (or lack thereof). All semester I have been suffering the same effects of depression that I had in highschool when 7 people I knew died in a 6 month period. I have lashed out on some of you. I have ignored some of you. I haven't been myself and for this I am sorry.
Last night at the Newman Semi-Formal dance, I took time away from everyone to sit and think and pray about what was different. I wondered why everyone had changed so much while I was in England. I finally realized that it was I who had changed, and not for the better. Today, I had time to do some more soul searching. I finally found the root of my problems: I missed my grandfather. Now to some that may sound lame or stupid or even like a semi-valid excuse, but you have to understand that throughout my life my grandfather was the only person I felt truly understood me. He was my main religious influence. He taught me more about life than everyone else combined. He taught me how to truly love and how to use that love to get through the pain of life. I understood him and he understood me. I have been spending this semester looking for a replacement for him. Looking for someone or something that I could confide everything in and relate to. Some one that was not only a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen, but who would take it even further and be a person, a mind, and a soul that understood. For those of you who have been there for me in the past, I thank you and have needed and will need your support, but it just isn't the same as it was with him.
So, where do I go from here? Who knows... In the past couple of weeks I had been contemplating more and more the opportunity of permanently volunteering in a third world country. I have since realized that I was thinking about doing this as a means to run away from this life I have here. I was using it as an easy way out; an escape from the hard times. Instead, I think I want to stick around, hopefully find a nice girl and start a family, and maybe someday I can be to my son or grandson what my grandfather was to me.
Rest In Peace Grandpa.
As many of you know, my grandfather passed away Dec. 6th, 2006. This was 4 days before I was supposed to return from 4 months of studying abroad in England. I made arrangements to postpone a final and switch flights and I left Leeds. After 30 hours on trains, in airports, and on planes, I finally made it back to Pittsburgh to see my grandfather laying in a coffin. I only had about 15 minutes with him as the funeral home was already supposed to be closed and they had given us a little extra time on my account. That night was one of the most confusing nights I have ever had. I spent the night half in tears of sadness and half in tears of joy. I gave my family souvenirs from my 4 months through 15 countries, but couldn't help but notice the empty chair that was usually my grandfather's. Of all the souvenirs I brought home, only one had broken: The crucifix that I bought in Scotland for my grandfather. I cried myself to sleep that night. The next morning was the funeral itself. Suffering from jet lag, depression, and a feeling of not belonging that I cannot describe, I stood quietly in the pew next to my brother and sister, until I couldn't keep it in any longer. I then stared at this wooden box that would be the eternal home for my grandfather's body and wept uncontrollably.
Let me take a moment and explain some of my feelings leading up to this point: Most of you know me pretty well, and most of you know that when things are bothering me I am usually pretty good about talking to anyone who will listen to help ease the problem. Things were different with my grandfather's death. I had been out of the country for 4 months. The only familiar faces I saw the whole time were 4 classmates who were studying abroad with me. Some of them had been my friends before, and the others I had become friends with during the time abroad. As the semester was coming to an end, I was very homesick. I was counting the days until I could see my family and friends again. Then, as I answered my phone (through my computer) I heard my sister say "Bill, Mom and Dad weren't sure if they should tell you this since you have finals next week and enough on your mind, but I knew that you would want to know: Grandpa fell while no one was home and isn't doing too great. He is in the hospital." At this point, no one knew what the extent of the injuries were except that his face was in bad shape, apparently from hitting his walker and/or the wall before hitting the ground. That night I cried myself to sleep, praying to God. The next couple of days I was getting updates from my family. They found that my grandfather had broken his neck. At first they said he may never come home again, but he should make a full recovery. Then, for unknown reasons, he started doing better, and one doctor or nurse made the comment that he may be able to be transferred to a nursing home in a couple of weeks, and possibly make it home again with more constant care and supervision. The next day, after my first final, I got a call from my parents telling me to prepare for the worst. The hospital had called early in the morning to tell my parents to call of work and come straight to the hospital. Overnight he had gone drastically down hill. I could do nothing but cry as my mom told me that they were trying to keep him alive long enough for me to see him when I got home. I had been researching the possibility of changing my flight to get home a day early because at this point alot could change in 24 hours. I spoke with my sister as she was driving from Ohio back to Pittsburgh. I asked her what she thought about coming home a day early. She said that at this point, she didn't know if that 1 day would be enough. A couple hours later, I was studying with a friend for our second final when my computer made the all too familiar ringing sound of my family calling. When I answered, I heard my brother in the weakest voice I had ever hear him use tell me "Bill, Grandpa just passed away." At that moment I lost any control over my feelings that I might have had. Here I was, over 3000 miles away from home, listening through my computer as my grandfather got hurt, spent time in the hospital, and died. I could do nothing. I couldn't get home in time to see him. It had been over 4 months since I had seen him last. He had gone to my uncle's house while we went on vacation before I left for England. And now I was never going to see him again. This was the worst feeling I have ever felt. I was alone. I felt lost. I felt helpless.
Now, to fast forward to this semester. I have spent most of this semester with a fake smile on my face. I have been detached most of the semester. I have been blaming problems on everything, from too much school work to girl problems (or lack thereof). All semester I have been suffering the same effects of depression that I had in highschool when 7 people I knew died in a 6 month period. I have lashed out on some of you. I have ignored some of you. I haven't been myself and for this I am sorry.
Last night at the Newman Semi-Formal dance, I took time away from everyone to sit and think and pray about what was different. I wondered why everyone had changed so much while I was in England. I finally realized that it was I who had changed, and not for the better. Today, I had time to do some more soul searching. I finally found the root of my problems: I missed my grandfather. Now to some that may sound lame or stupid or even like a semi-valid excuse, but you have to understand that throughout my life my grandfather was the only person I felt truly understood me. He was my main religious influence. He taught me more about life than everyone else combined. He taught me how to truly love and how to use that love to get through the pain of life. I understood him and he understood me. I have been spending this semester looking for a replacement for him. Looking for someone or something that I could confide everything in and relate to. Some one that was not only a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen, but who would take it even further and be a person, a mind, and a soul that understood. For those of you who have been there for me in the past, I thank you and have needed and will need your support, but it just isn't the same as it was with him.
So, where do I go from here? Who knows... In the past couple of weeks I had been contemplating more and more the opportunity of permanently volunteering in a third world country. I have since realized that I was thinking about doing this as a means to run away from this life I have here. I was using it as an easy way out; an escape from the hard times. Instead, I think I want to stick around, hopefully find a nice girl and start a family, and maybe someday I can be to my son or grandson what my grandfather was to me.
Rest In Peace Grandpa.
posted by Bill B. at 10:14 PM
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