Grampa,
I miss you so much. I understand why you had to have the surgery over a year ago. When you can’t enjoy life, you slowly lose the will to move forward. I understand that. I also know you missed Granny. I understand everything.
Thank you. You died like you lived. On your own terms. I don’t know how many times I thought of the day you died. Two days before my birthday. We were going to turn off the life support. As much as it hurts to think about, I was going to be the one to do it. On my birthday.
Instead you gave me one of the most precious birthday presents ever. You went out on your own terms, two days before my birthday. Thank you. I understand.
I know that it wasn’t you. Seeing you in the hospital bed like that. It’s not the Grampa I remember. Not the strongest man in the world. Not my hero. It hurt me to see you so vulnerable. Do I regret coming to see you? No. You may have never woke up from the surgery and was on life support, but I remember. I remember when I read you that letter I wrote you, telling you I understand and I love you, and I put the headphones on you and played Hero of the Day, I know you understood too.
You cried a single tear. I still have the tissue I used to wipe it off.
I understand Grampa, and I miss you so much. I love you and I think about you everyday. You were and always will be my Hero. The man I try and live up to. You’re the man who gave me my childhood back when my life at home couldn’t.
I remember all the stories about my great great great great grandfather, Bluebeard the pirate you told me. You always joked with me about my beard. No, I’m still not friends with Gillette. Yes, I got more tattoos, but you’d love them like all my others. Most of all, yes, I’m still playing drums and still doing my computer thing. This isn’t much, but this letter is for you. The greatest man that ever lived. A true hero. One who led by example and taught me that having a good heart is stronger than being a bad ass.
