The Grandpa He Never Knew

Twenty years ago tomorrow was the day that my father was killed in a tragic plane crash in Oklahoma City.  It's hard to believe that twenty years have passed since that day.  When I was eleven, right after my dad passed away, I thought about what it would be like to look back after twenty years and I couldn't imagine this day.

Last year was especially hard for me because I was on maternity leave with a very young baby and I was a mess of hormones.  I was crying at the drop of a hat about nothing, so I'm not really sure if I was upset because of the anniversary or if I was just upset.

This year, I'm watching my toddler walk around my apartment and I catch myself thinking that I wish my dad was here to see this.  I wish my dad was here to see my little boy smile and laugh and tackle his furry sister and pick up his ball to toss around.  I wish my dad could be here to push him in the swings and prop him up on his shoulders to bounce him around as he walks.  I wish my dad could see the next generation of his bloodline continue on past him.

Every time I think about that, a little part of me still hurts.

When I tell 2.0 about the grandpa he has waiting in heaven to meet him, I try to focus on what I can still remember about him.  Time may heal some wounds, but time takes away the memory of precious moments that you thought you'd never forget when the moment was upon you but now you can't remember the details of.  I find myself trying to remember what my dad looked like and how his voice sounded.  I can't really remember it anymore.

So what I tell my son is probably warped and twisted in a good way.  I probably remember things that didn't actually happen quite like I think they did.  My dad probably wasn't as wonderful a man as I try to think of him as.  No one is perfect.  But as far as 2.0 will know, that's what his grandpa was.

He'll only know that his grandpa was a caring gentle man who loved football, cheetos, and spaghettios.  He'll know his grandpa smiled a lot and didn't know the difference between cottage cheese and cheddar cheese (because it's all cheese right?).  He'll know that his grandpa would've loved him very much and still looks down from heaven to smile at him.  He'll know that his grandpa is proud of him.

I don't think about what's not here.  I think about what is.

Twenty years later, that's the most important thing.