The First Birthday Without

Friday would have been my grandpa's 95th birthday. Wow. Ninety-freaking-five, right? That's insane.

I miss him terribly. But it isn't like when my grandma died and I couldn't get out of bed for the two weeks surrounding her birthday. When I think about him, even though I am missing him like crazy, I just smile. I mean, I have been having dreams since I was a little girl where he would die and I would be lost and lonely and scared so maybe I just had time to prepare for the day when it actually happened. And you know, it helped me that he seemed to be ready. He had lost already, the love of his life, lived a long, happy, ridiculously interesting life and knew that his health was steadily getting worse. So maybe there was a little comfort for me in knowing that, even if I wouldn't so easily, he had accepted that it was time.

Still, the day itself holds a lot of memories. And, you know, I would have given anything to have been able to bring him a giant cupcake with a candle in it. 

Here's to remembering our beloved Grandpa. And...of course...Charlie Barley. (I miss you...)

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