Granddaddy

My Grandfather, Charlie Currin Watson, was the greatest man who ever lived.  He taught me how to love and appreciate everything you have, because life is too short, and you should celebrate life and everything in it. 

Let me tell you a little bit about my Grandfather.  He was in the Air Force before it was even the Air Force, and he met my Grandmother, whom I'm named after, when he was 18 and they got married on an air force base in Virginia.  Together my Grandparents made four beautiful girls, Charlene, Brenda and Glenda, and the youngest being my mother, Joy.  They raised them on a nursery, they didn't have a lot of money, but they made it work, and gave my aunts and my mom the best life they could have ever asked for.  A long time down the road my mom brings us into the world.  My grandfather and my grandmother, other than my father, are the first people to hold me and my brother.  My grandfather told me I was a quiet baby, and I did a lot of looking around and observing.

Throughout my life, Charlie put up with a lot.  Like when my car broke down he helped me get it fixed, even though  I took it to a crooked repair man, he still paid for it, but he taught me a lesson from it.  My entire life he taught me a lesson on how to be a good person, and to treat people right.  He's probably partially the reason why I'm the way I am now.  We had a family reunion one year, and I remember hearing him tell everyone how I was his favorite grandchild, out of all of the grandchildren he had!  There had to be atleast 25 of us!

When Charlie was 85 years old, he started to get very sick.  He was taken to the hospital, and they diagnosed him with Lukemia.  He had been very sick in the past, and he turned down the option for treatment.  He said that he was too old, and if it was his time, it was his time.  Over the next year he became very sick, and stopped leaving the house.  My mom began to spend the night at his house, sleeping on an air mattress on the floor next to his hospital bed in the living room. 

What I am ashamed of the most, is the entire time I knew he was sick, my Mom kept on telling me, "you need to go see your grandfather, Kaitlyn.  We don't know how much longer he has." and she kept on saying it and saying it, but I just never went.  I was so scared.  The man I loved so much was dying, and there was nothing I could do about it.  Finally I went to go see him.  I kept my head down the entire time, I was ashamed.  Ashamed that I couldn't even recognize my Granddad, the man who used to sit out on the dock with me and my brothers and fish with us.  I remember the last time I saw him.  When I was leaving, I kissed him on the cheek and told him I loved him.  He started to cry.  My grandfather, the strongest man I know, cried. 

About two weeks after that, I woke up to find my mom lieing in her bed.  I went into her room and asked...
"Mom, why are you home?" Because she had been spending the night every night at their house.  I don't know why I asked, I knew already that it had happened, I just didn't want to accept it. 
"Well... Daddy passed away last night... Probably around 2:30.."
I went over to the bed and sat down on it, and she sat up. 
"Was everyone there?"
"Yes, they were.  We were all there, and we held hands, and said a prayer, and said our goodbyes, and he just stopped breathing... We called the home health nurse and the funeral home... and... here I am now."
My mom was crying now.  I couldn't say anything.  I put my arms around my mom, and I cried. 

The next time I cried was at the funeral, several days later.  My best friend, Sarah, was there with me.  I thank God every day that she's back in my life now.  She held my hand and she cried for me.  I tried to look strong for my family, I didn't even cry during the service.  What made me cry the hardest was watch my family carry his casket out to the cemetery, from the church i'd been going to my entire life.  It was amazing, how many people showed up.  The entire church was filled up to the point of where people were standing in the back and flowing out the back door  People who had barely even met my Grandfather were there, and they waited outside while the service was being held.  He died four days before my birthday in September, so it was a moderate temperature.  The day was beautiful, which is what he would have wanted, but in my world everything was gray.  They did the graveside service, and everyone got up to mingle amongst each other. 



For some reason, I saw my brother's best friend, Logan, and all I could say was "You came." before I put my arms around him and started crying.  Logan, the biggest tough asshole, whose always been an asshole to me, put his arms around me and hugged me.  LOGAN hugged me.  He soothed me, and in his arms is where I felt the most comforted.  For the weirdest reason, I don't think i'll ever understand why.  I never harbored any kind of emotions for Logan other than acknowledging his existence in my life, but for that moment, he was there for me. 

Even in death, Charlie brought me hope.  Hope that the future will be brighter, and that this too, shall pass.  The grief that I feel, even almost three years since he passed away. 

Man, it hurts so bad to cry.  But it feels so good.  I haven't cried in so long. 

I love you Granddaddy, I hope you read this and smile up in heaven where I have absolutely no doubt in my mind you are, and forgive me for not being with you more when you were sick, I love you.