I'm not very religious. I haven't read the bible but I was baptized Catholic. I go to Church on Christmas, Easter and some Sundays. I believe in God, Heaven, and Hell. But sometimes I question my faith. The last two and a half weeks I've been so lost. My grandpa passed away on July 10th of this year. I remember every detail that happened that day like it was yesterday. Although it wasn't very long ago, I can still hear my uncle's voice over the phone saying that my Grandpa had died.
My Grandpa and I were pretty close. I would visit him almost every weekend and he would call me Grandpa's Girl and for some reason he was always proud of me. I have 20 cousins and he was proud of me, he was proud of all his grandchildren of course but he always treated me a little special or I always thought I was a little special to my Grandpa. Whenever we had a family party that he couldn't go to because he was too tired to travel, he would always say "Ashley, you represent your Grandpa okay?" And of course I would because whatever Grandpa requested from any of children or grandchildren we would do. Grandpa wanted us to roast a pig for my cousin's 16th birthday, it would happen. The only thing we couldn't do was roast a goat but Grandma didn't want it. Of course no one would say but Grandma is the boss, it was just Grandpa's Kingdom.
I love my Grandpa. He was a happy man. He had a good life and everyone that met him loved him. I wasn't surprised that so many family and friends showed up to his memorial and military service. We had people spilling out of the funeral home and we had the largest group they had ever seen at the cemetery. He truly made an impact in all the lives touched. He had such a beautiful life and I am so blessed to have been part of it. I am so grateful to have had him in my life for almost 23 years. The only thing I feel sorry about is that I never took a shot with him like he would have wanted. Instead I took my first and final shot with my Grandpa at his memorial service next to what he called his second home.
I think my Grandpa, pulling out pictures of his second home, knew that it was almost time for him to go. None of us wanted to believe it because in our mind he would live forever. But that's not how life works. We live, we try to have a good life, make a billion memories with the people we love and then we die in hopes that we lived a good life. And my grandpa, for the most part, did live a good life. Without some of the choices he made, I don't think I'd have the beautiful life I would have now.
Grandpa Brownie August 10th 1927 - July 10th 2013
Be Beautiful For You!
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