JULY 14, 2005 entry taken from my previous blog
So just a month after Skecher, tragedy hit again. It was one of those late phone calls that you dread, especially from people you haven't heard from in a while. My cousin Lys called to let me know the family was gathering to bid farewell to Grandpa, Octaviano. After hanging up with her I immediately called my sister to see if she had heard anything. That's when it happened. Dad called Nani on the landline and told her Grandpa had passed.
Two or three weeks earlier, I decided to stop by Grandpa's house just to see how he was doing. He looked fine except that 5 minutes into our conversation he asks, "Y tu, como te llamas?" I was heartbroken. I was crushed and had no idea what to think. Was I really that bad of a grandchild that my grandfather couldn't even remember who I was? For all I know he could have been thinking, "okay this chick is brown, she's calling me Grandpa, she must be one of mine." After fighting back the tears and jogging his memory, he finally knew I was Amador and Eva's kid. I wanted to tell him in person that I missed talking with him and even made him promise to get better so that we could have a little dance-a-roo.
As I drove away, the tears flowed. I told myself that I would stay in contact more becos I wanted to make sure Grandpa would be around to see the landmarks one experiences during the transition from youngster to adult. So imagine my surprise when I received the late night phonecall.
Driving home Tuesday night I felt nothing. Waking up to get ready for the funeral...nothing. I looked to Dad for some sign of humanity...nothing. I don't think my Dad realizes he's an orphan now. We even grabbed breakfast right before the funeral service. Eventually got to the funeral home...still nothing. During the service I shed a tear when the reverend mentioned my grandfather playing guitar and singing praises to the Lord. I remember those days and it was a comfort to go back there even if it was just for a split second.
When we got to the cemetery we ended up in the wrong place, or so I thought. Turns out that my Grandpa's new wife (Fina) decided to have him buried somewhere other than with my Grandma, Teresa. My family is outraged by this and ...oh wait, I forgot to mention that my aunt's are not very fond of Fina. I never had a problem with her, so it's no shit to me. However, after the funeral, we surprisingly had 2 dinners planned. One was Fina and her family's dinner, the other was our family's dinner (sons and daughters of Grandpa).
Long story short, we visited Fina, she yells at us out of anger. 'Us' being Mom, Dad, and me. Mom stands up for the family, eventhough it's Dad's family, and I've never seen her get that mad. Her whole facial expression changed. Anyway, Fina feels we (Devereauxs) wronged her. Now Dad is worried she won't return Grandpa's belongings to our family since they hold tons of meaning for us.
I can only hope for the best, but lately I've found that good nature and common sense are lacking in our society.
So just a month after Skecher, tragedy hit again. It was one of those late phone calls that you dread, especially from people you haven't heard from in a while. My cousin Lys called to let me know the family was gathering to bid farewell to Grandpa, Octaviano. After hanging up with her I immediately called my sister to see if she had heard anything. That's when it happened. Dad called Nani on the landline and told her Grandpa had passed.
Two or three weeks earlier, I decided to stop by Grandpa's house just to see how he was doing. He looked fine except that 5 minutes into our conversation he asks, "Y tu, como te llamas?" I was heartbroken. I was crushed and had no idea what to think. Was I really that bad of a grandchild that my grandfather couldn't even remember who I was? For all I know he could have been thinking, "okay this chick is brown, she's calling me Grandpa, she must be one of mine." After fighting back the tears and jogging his memory, he finally knew I was Amador and Eva's kid. I wanted to tell him in person that I missed talking with him and even made him promise to get better so that we could have a little dance-a-roo.
Driving home Tuesday night I felt nothing. Waking up to get ready for the funeral...nothing. I looked to Dad for some sign of humanity...nothing. I don't think my Dad realizes he's an orphan now. We even grabbed breakfast right before the funeral service. Eventually got to the funeral home...still nothing. During the service I shed a tear when the reverend mentioned my grandfather playing guitar and singing praises to the Lord. I remember those days and it was a comfort to go back there even if it was just for a split second.
When we got to the cemetery we ended up in the wrong place, or so I thought. Turns out that my Grandpa's new wife (Fina) decided to have him buried somewhere other than with my Grandma, Teresa. My family is outraged by this and ...oh wait, I forgot to mention that my aunt's are not very fond of Fina. I never had a problem with her, so it's no shit to me. However, after the funeral, we surprisingly had 2 dinners planned. One was Fina and her family's dinner, the other was our family's dinner (sons and daughters of Grandpa).
Long story short, we visited Fina, she yells at us out of anger. 'Us' being Mom, Dad, and me. Mom stands up for the family, eventhough it's Dad's family, and I've never seen her get that mad. Her whole facial expression changed. Anyway, Fina feels we (Devereauxs) wronged her. Now Dad is worried she won't return Grandpa's belongings to our family since they hold tons of meaning for us.
I can only hope for the best, but lately I've found that good nature and common sense are lacking in our society.
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