February 1

I'm having a bit of a rough time today.

I was sitting at my desk this morning, and I look up and realize that the calendar I have hanging up in my cube has already been flipped over to February. It's a bit odd, because I know I didn't do this. I know I didn't do it - I'm horrible at remembering to change the calendar. So apparently some kind soul stopped by my desk and did this for me. I'm still kinda wondering who it was. I have hunches, but I'm not quite sure.

I noticed on the calendar that tomorrow was Groundhog Day. I was kind of already aware of this because they've mentioned it on the news in the morning that I see on the TVs when I'm at the gym. It reminded me - today is my grandpa's birthday. His birthday is February 1, and Groundhog Day is the 2nd. I remember my dad talking about how he always had a hard time remembering whether Grandpa's birthday was on the 1st or 2nd of February. He said could never recall who came first, Grandpa or the groundhog. :)

My grandpa died in 2003. He was born in 1911, so he would be 95 today if he were still alive. My grandma died the year before, in 2002. I don't remember crying very much at either of their funerals. One thing I do remember, though, was my cousin Jerry and I talking at my grandma's showing. Jerry and I grew up together, we're a year apart. We decided to go get a bite to eat, and ended up at a restaurant that we used to go to all the time when we were kids. It brought back a lot of memories.

Reading Lauren's last blog post made me think about all this some too. I mourn at weird times as well. I didn't cry very much at my grandparents' funerals, but today I'm having a hard time holding the tears back just sitting here at work. I got to thinking about my grandpa. I haven't really thought too much about how I miss my grandparents, but I realized that I do. Looking back at the last few years of my life, I miss their presence there. Especially my grandpa. He was the gentlest person I've ever known. He wasn't necessarily really outgoing, but everyone that knew him loved him. I don't think I ever saw him upset or even worried unless it was about my grandma. I think in some ways she might've been the more dominant one in their relationship, but he really took care of her. And I know, that if he were here today - he'd be proud of me. I've struggled a bit sometimes with really feeling like my parents are proud of me. Graduating college, getting a job - and they're the ones that I feel like I should really be making proud the most. And yet sometimes I wonder if they really are. But my grandpa - I know he would be.

I really miss family times. I don't get too many anymore. I only really see my immediate family - we're not around anyone else much. I used to be around family a lot more when I was a kid. One of the things I enjoyed and remember most from my trip to visit my family in Phoenix last March was the night we stayed with them and they were all getting ready to go to some get-together. It was a flurry of activity. Activity that is my family. I can't describe it, it's just a matter of me knowing what they're all like and watching them... be themselves, basically. It was fun to watch them and think "hey, they're crazy - but they're my family". And I love them and miss them.

I was planning a trip to the cemetery to visit my grandparents this week anyway. I have been since I moved up here closer to where they're buried. I haven't been to visit them since they passed away. So I think I'll go today. I might cry, I might not. But at least I know I feel. I miss them... I realized that today, thinking about my grandpa. I remember who he was and what it was like talking to him and being around him, and I know I'll never be able to experience that again, at least not on this earth. And knowing that makes me feel pain. But it's a normal pain, a pain that should be there. A grief that's maybe been locked up, not allowed to be let out for quite a while. So maybe now it's time to mourn.

Depressing blog today, huh?

Happy Birthday, Grandpa. I miss you.