10 year anniversary

Today marks 10 years since my Dad passed away. Yesterday was the 10th anniversary of my Grandma's death. I will never forget that time in my life. It is hard to believe it has been 10 years already. Some days it feels like just yesterday. Other times, it seems like a completely different lifetime. But even today, the first weeks of January still haunt me and cast a dark shadow over each new year as I remember 1998.

It started just before Christmas when I got a call from my Mom that Grandma was in the hospital. I wasn't worried until I arrived in Pittsburgh a few days later and saw that she was already in bad shape. When I left to head back to Michigan, I recall the uneasy thought that I wasn't going to see her again. The day I got back, I called my Dad to let him know I was in town for Christmas. His phone rang and rang and I remember finding it odd that the answering machine did not pick up. That night I received a call from the hospital and learning that Dad was in a house fire and was in the burn unit. It was quite a shock. My Step dad took me to hospital and I had no idea at the time just how bad he was. Although my body must have known deep down as I threw up in the parking lot on my way to see him. By the time I arrived, he was already unconscious. I like to think he knew I was there but I'll never know.

Both Dad and Grandma were both remarkable fighters and both held out as long as possible. My Mom spent time in Pittsburgh along with my Aunts and Grandpa. Meanwhile my brother and I along with Dad's side of the family stayed in Michigan. I have vivid memory of their last days as my Mom called Friday evening to tell me that Grandma had passed away and then less than 12 hours later Dad finally gave up. It was a remarkable shaking to lose two people I loved within hours of each other.

I do miss both of them. I thought of my Grandma quite a bit during my cousin Brie's wedding this past fall. She would have loved the wedding because Grandma had a great appreciation for the beach. Brie was also her favorite as she was the only granddaughter. I am thankful that my last memory with Grandma before she got sick was sitting by the pool in Margate NJ. She was vacationing there as she did most years and I made a weekend trip up from DC to visit. We had a really good talk about her time living in Washington and I enjoyed hearing her stories. It was a good way to end my time with her.

I don't have quite the same happy ending with Dad. I never got to say goodbye and my last phone call a few months prior was filled with mostly superficial small talk and I remember thinking afterwards that he didn't really get me. I had hoped to talk more to him when I got up to Michigan for Christmas but I never got the chance. I still think of him often. I cannot watch a Maryland game or hear about Robert Kennedy (his political hero) without feeling like he's somehow with me in spirit. I usually cry when I hear the Neal Young song that Uncle Brian played at his funeral.

Over the past 10 years, I am realizing just how much of my life both Dad and Grandma have already missed. They'll never know that I moved back to Michigan or ran a winning political campaign or any of my girlfriends or that I am finally a home owner. Most days this doesn't matter but today I really wish I could share these past experiences with them. I hope to use this feeling to ensure that I share my present and future experiences with my family and friends who are still with me.