I just wanted to blog to vent some of the things I’m feeling.
I miss my grandad. I miss him so much. It’s the worst pain you can imagine, thinking to call him. Or seeing something he would laugh at and wanting to show him.
For years, he said to me I should watch Dexter, and for years I said no. He said I would love it and I always said no. Why did I say no? Why? I watched it a year after he died and loved it. When I realised what I had done, I broke down. I cried and cried as a thought popped into my head. I should tell grandad I watched it. But I couldn’t. The guilt was indescribable. I felt like an awful person. I left it too late and now he’s gone and we can never discuss it.
I even started getting into the music he loved like Pendragon and Pink Floyd. Yet more things I will never share with him.
He raised me like his own. Bought my school uniforms. Told the worst jokes ever. Made me laugh. Made me feel loved when I felt worthless.
A year before he got ill, I cried to my boyfriend because I felt worried for him. I said, I’m worried something is going to happen to my grandad. And then it did. I’ve carried the weight of that thought since the day he was diagnosed with cancer. I find myself wondering, if I had never said that, if I never spoke it into existence, maybe he would still be here.
I miss my grandad. I miss him so much.