Unexpected depths of grief

The last couple days it’s been sad music. It’s just one of those things that comes with the territory. I’m finally hitting that phase of the grief.

My grandfather died last week. And it’s hitting me harder than I thought it would. And not that there is a memorial in two weeks it’s really sinking in.

Hence my melancholy response and the seeking of appropriately emotionally fulfilling music.

For many people that would seem an appropriate response when losing a grandfather. For me I’m struggling to know how exactly I feel.

See I never met my grandfather until about four years ago. Just prior to that, I was unaware that he even existed. I’ll just say that DNA tests for family history can reveal new things.

Since that time I’ve been able to visit him and properly meet him once, and I’ve had a throughly typical modern experience of intermittent phone calls and text messages. At times I was much more connected and responsive than others. And I needed it.

He was there. A listening ear when I struggled. When I found out I was bipolar. As I struggled with school and work. Was burnt out over COVID. When I was diagnosed with hemochromatosis and it’s accompanying liver damage. He was a person to talk to. 

I’m going to miss that. 

It’s made me realize what builds a relationship and it’s familiarity and support. 

The familiarity of a relationship can be increased by intensity, duration, and/or proximity. And all of those can be increased by sincerity, vulnerability, and care.

I felt that here. And like many of the relationships and friendships of my life I can see how it built and how it effected me.

So my ending today is this. If you care about someone, care. And, let them know. Be there for them. Love them. You won’t always have them. And caring for someone will help them and you more than you know.

When they’re gone. You’ll grieve them. Often the depth of which will strike you expectedly. And you’ll know, you cared.