My grandpa passed away this week. I haven't cried about it until tonight when I was in the car alone, on my way to Target to get Easter stuff for the kids. I am not sure why I started crying then; probably because I finally had a quiet moment to let it all sink in. I think I've been too busy the last couple of days vacuuming, doing laundry, taking care of coughing kids, changing diapers, attempting to make cookies and everything else that goes on in a normal day. I keep reading posts my cousins are leaving on
FB or talking to my sister and hearing how everyone is doing. I was wondering why I am not as sad as they are. Maybe I wasn't as close to him as some of them, or maybe I have been too distracted. I thought back to when my friend Aimee died and how hard it hit me and how much I cried. But tonight, in the car, I just started thinking about him. I thought about his smile. He always seemed to have a smile on his face, well except for when he was at ball games yelling at the refs over mistakes he wanted to make sure they knew they made. I thought about a day when my sister and my cousin and I were at my uncle's house sitting out in the sun and my grandpa came up and just looked at us. I remember asking if he wanted something and he said, "I just have the most beautiful granddaughters." He used to come to the football games to watch me cheer. I remember the 50
th anniversary party we threw for him and my grandmother and how I hoped I would someday have a party like that with the man I loved. I thought about my wedding and how my husband had asked my grandma what their wedding song had been. Dave made a CD of wedding songs and when my grandparents' song came on they danced. I watched them dance and they looked so happy and so in love, all those years later. We celebrated their 60 anniversary on Saturday and he passed away a couple of days later. He was a good father and husband and he taught so many things to his children and grandchildren. I know my dad is who he is today because of my grandpa and for that I love him so much. I have always loved my last name, always loved being a
Faircloth and having people tell me they knew my grandparents, or my aunts, uncles, or dad. It's a good name to have, a good family to belong to. My grandpa loved his family and it showed in everything he said and did. When you were with him you felt like you were the favorite. He did a lot for a lot of people. I was talking on the phone tonight to someone who knew him and she said such nice things. It made me realize that everyone who knew him must have loved him because that was the kind of person he was.