Grandpa in the ground

There are some things, monumental occasions, that always stay with you.  One of those for me was the the events that lead up to the day, and occurred after my father passed away, Sept. 6, 2007.  I remember the last time I saw him and the content look on his face, prior to Michael, Adam and myself taking a quick and much needed family vacation to the Russian River Valley.  Adam was eighteen months old, and the apple of his grandfathers eye.  He hadn't mastered walking without assistance yet, and that morning while visiting dad, Adam had my thumb in his grip as I led him up and down the hall in front of my dads bedroom,  just as I had done many years ago with my dad when I was Adams age.  I saw my dad smile;  he used to tell me, "I hope I live long enough to see Adam turn a year old." And I would always reassure him not to worry, he would.  Once Adam turned a year, dad would then tell me, "I hope I live long enough to see him take his first steps."  Once again, I would smile and tell him of course he would.

I  realized not long after his funeral that the look on his face the last day I saw him - the contentment, the smile - he knew.  He stayed just long enough to see what he really wanted.

I would show Adam pictures and when I would ask if he knew who it was, he would say "Grandpa" , smile and kiss his picture.  I wondered when his abbreviated memories of the grandfather who patiently waited so many years for him to arrive would one day vanish, if ever. 

We soon after decided to make a fresh start, and moved from Los Angeles to Washington state.  As Adam got older, I would show him pictures of his grandfather to keep that memory of him alive.  Even though Adam recognized his picture, his memory of visiting him was dissapating. When Adam would ask where grandpa was, I would just point skyward and tell him that he was watching over us.

We still travel to California regularly, Michael for work and for us to also visit family.  One morning, after dropping Michael off at the studio, I decided to hop on the freeway for the short jaunt to Forest Lawn near Griffith Park.  We hadn't been there since the funeral, and I thought it would be nice to buy some flowers and set them on his grave.  When Adam asked where we were going, I told him to "visit grandpa."  He didn't say a word, presumably thinking we were going to visit other grandpa, Michael's parents.

We purchased our flowers, and Adam picked out a butterfly on a stick. "Grandpa will love this!"  he said.  Then headed high up on the hill to my dad's resting place.  We sat down on the grass,  took some photos,  then Adam became preoccupied with a army of ants.   I was about ready to tell him it was time to leave when he asked me,

 "Where is grandpa?  Is he coming?"

"No honey, he's right here."

Perplexed Adam stood up, looked around, and asked "Where?"

Me not thinking, responded, "He's in the ground."

Adam walked over, knelt down and knocked on the grass.  "Grandpa!  Can you hear me?"  He patiently waited for a few moments, then stood up.  "How come he isn't answering?"

I really dug myself a hole.  "He can't hear you honey."  was all I could muster.  Adam knocked on the grass, stood up then took a few steps back and stared.   "What are you doing now?"  I asked.

Adam, still looking at the ground said, "I'm waiting for the grass to open up."

"Hmm.  It's not going to open honey."  I shook my head, because I knew the inevitable barrage of questions would be coming.

On the drive home, and for several days after, I tried to explain to my almost four year old the cycle of life and death, heaven and all that comes with it.  Adam would say that he didn't want to go into the cycle, or if he did, when would he go into the cycle?  I began visually slapping myself on the forhead.  What had I done?

One night, Michael called his parents and asked Adam if he wanted to talk to grandpa on the phone.  Adam grabbed the phone and asked excitedly, "Is this grandpa in the ground?"  laughing, Michael's dad said, "I sure hope not!"  We explained the meaning behind it and had a good laugh.  Whenever we talk about grandpa Adam always asks which one  we are talking about.  "The one in the ground, or the one who isn't?" is how he distinguishes the two.

My dads birthday just passed.  He would have been 82 on November 4th.  When Adam was told it was grandpa's birthday, he said, yup you guessed it:

"Happy birthday grandpa in the ground!"



no children were harmed in the writing of this blog...