Lord Help Me!

Yesterday I turned the tender age of 37 and it was a horrible day.  No, I did not lament over the passing years.  I was not depressed because I am another year closer to 40.  I did not tick off all the people/possessions/dreams missing from my life; I happen to like my life.  However, I did miss my PawPaw.

By all accounts my PawPaw was a great man, not only in stature but also in spirit.  From what I understand, he was a stern man but I never saw any evidence.  I guess the previous five grandchildren had already softened him by the time I came along.  He would go on to have eleven natural grandchildren and an additional four step-grandchildren.  In speaking with MawMaw yesterday, she brought to light the fact that she and PawPaw never imagined that they would have fifteen grandchildren and sixteen great-grandchildren.  Of course I told her it was all her fault because she had five children herself.  Her reply, "Yes and I assume you believe that Frank had nothing to do with that."

In my memory, PawPaw was a man of few words unless he was speaking about the Lord (which he managed to work into every conversation), teasing his grandchildren without mercy or beating me at gin rummy or playing his clarinet with me (I was the only grandchild who took up the instrument, of which the man was a pro!).  What I remember is that he was always there to make me smile, help me in my struggle with my belief system or show me how to hold my mouth to get the perfect B flat on my clarinet.

Yesterday it hit me hard that PawPaw was gone.  Seven years ago to the day, I was in a funeral home sitting next to my mother and my cousin Niki, trying to hold it all together for my mom as family gathered around.  Several things I distinctly remember about that day:
*My youngest uncle wishing me happy birthday and I didn't know how to respond to the absurdity to the situation.  I wanted to scream at him "Yes, it's my birthday!  Yes, I'm 30!  And my grandfather is dead!"
*Not knowing how to act around my mother.  With the exception of my beloved Doc, whom I had lost the previous February, I had never 'experienced' death.  Yes, I had lost my uncle Jimmy, Niki's dad, but I was relatively young and I remember that Mom tried to shield her children from the loss.  This was the full blown experience of the loss of a man whom I ran too when I needed a break from college but didn't want to go home.  I didn't know if I was supposed to wail and scream or remain stoically strong for my parents.  This ended up causing a little disappointment from PU#1 but a couple of weeks later when we were able to discuss it, we both understood where we had made mistakes.
*The rage I felt against certain cousins who could not the simple and vital wishes of my grandparents to abstain from perfume and make-up, as the scents often cause my grandmother to become sick.  My mother and her siblings had arranged a hour long closed viewing just so my grandmother would be able to attend without being bombarded with the lingering effects of people's perfumes.  In the end, she had to leave early as the grief she was experiencing along with the scents of my cousins were making her sick.
*Watching my grandmother, supported by Bobby Frank, walk to my PawPaw's casket and state that she loved him and would see him soon.  This of course sent Mom, Loretta, Niki and myself into a fresh bought of tears.  I remember sitting there, holding my mothers hand and cradling Niki against my side as we all sobbed.
*Having the support of a good friend of mine, who did her best to help me through the struggle for the following months.
*Seeing my mother's co-workers travel the two hours to attend the hour long viewing; knowing how important it would be to my mom to have her friends there.
*Having my dad's older brother and his family walk me through the loss and try to give me a happy birthday at the same time.

Everything seemed so surreal, so foreign and so wrong.  While I know that these events happened, they may not have happened in life as how they happened in my mind.  This is what I remember; other things I remember:
*Calling my PawPaw first after I was saved.  I knew that if anyone could understand my continuing struggle with religion it would be him.  Even after being saved, PawPaw still answered doubtful questions and gave his insight to what religion was all about.  I'm grateful that MawMaw has stepped into his shoes.
*Being teased every time I visited.  PawPaw continued to regale about my adventures as a toddler, especially when I called him a 'poo-poo' head and pleaded with him not to tell my parents.
*Standing in the living room of his house while he married my cousin Gina.  No other family members were there except my grandparents and myself.  It was truly special.
*Sitting at the dinning room table with PawPaw and Junior, playing cards, while unbeknown to us, a tornado tore through the small town in which he lived.
*Walking down the hill to the post office with PawPaw, knowing that he would take me to the Piggly Wiggle to get an ice cream sandwich.
*Pulling out the cardboard boxes that he kept on hand so that we could all slide down the massive hill that was his yard.

As I said, it hit me hard yesterday.  My parentals called and sang Happy Birthday to me; this was something that my grandparents did for as long as I can remember.  When PawPaw passed, it stopped.  Not long after the first phone call, I got my yearly birthday call from my grandmother sans the song.  It was all I could do not to burst into tears while I was on the phone with her.  I tried working to forget about it but I soon found myself in the stairwell crying.  On my way to my parents for the birthday dinner of paella (which is a story in itself), I held it together but as soon as I saw my mother I couldn't hold it together anymore.  I didn't want to cause her any sadness but I was broken.  It is bad enough to have lost my grandfather but for it to happen so close to my birthday, I get a yearly reminder as do my mother and grandmother.  That is not to say that this is the only time we think about him but, at least for me, it's like another slap in the face.  I talked to Mom and then she told me something that made me feel a whole lot better.  I realized that even in her deepest grief, she was thinking about me and how I would feel.  My PawPaw died on October 10th of 2003; my grandmother wanted his viewing and burial to take place as soon as possible so that she could grieve in private.  All agreed to have these events happen on October 11th; except my mother.  She insisted that she would not bury her father on her daughters birthday.  I guess she figured it would be hard enough to celebrate with his death so close to my birth that she refused to have them happen on the same day.  Did she do this for herself?  Maybe; if for no other reason than to handle her own grief a little better.  But being her daughter and knowing her as I know her, having her as my best friend, I know she was thinking of me.  For this I will be eternally grateful.

Now I realize that instead of letting the grief overwhelm me, I should celebrate not only my own life but the life of my PawPaw.  So Happy Birthday to me! 

I love you PawPaw and I love your daughter for the woman you helped her to become.

P.S. - Yesterday, MawMaw said to tell her daughter and son-in-law that if I did not have a good birthday that they would have to answer to her.  Mom & Dad; you have some explaining to do in regards to that paella. :-)