My grandfather.

My grandfather died, two weeks ago tomorrow, at 8:45 AM.
He was sick for a long time, and we knew it would happen. I knew the second I saw my parents what had happened. But it was still hard, it still is. I didn't bawl nonstop for days, I still cry a little every other day, occasionally more than once a day.

The funeral was hard, it was all I could do to not jump up and run out of the room during the service. But the small service at the cemetery was the worst part.

The worst part was watching the two air force officers folding the flag that was over his casket and giving it to my grandma. That was probably the hardest thing for me to watch, ever. At first, I didn't understand what they were doing. But when the officer knelt down in front of my grandma and handing the flag to her, in a moment of utter silence...it was absolutely unbearable. I had seen that being done in movies, at the funerals of the young and brave killed at war. I had never actually experienced that. My grandpa was not young or killed at war, but it was brave. He served in the United States Air Force during the Korean War.

It also hurt having to leave, because the service was at a memorial thing in the cemetery and I never got to see him buried. As I was leaving, the hearse drove away and my grandpa's casket getting put into an ugly white truck-like thing to take him to the grave site. That hurt so much, he deserved better than to be taken to his grave in an ugly white truck that didn't even look like anything but some white metal sheets on wheels.

My grandpa was a strong hearted man, a bit strict and stubborn at times, a man with a sense of humor and a knack for making friends. He was dedicated to everything he did. He had such a strong will to live, he held on for as long as he could. My mother said he held on for one of his sisters, who was driving to town from Nebraska. His other sister was with him when he died, my mom says that he had mistaken her for his sister from Nebraska and decided to finally let go. He died on a Tuesday, and I saw him the Sunday before. The last words I ever said to him was, "I'll see you later, Grandpa." The next time I saw him he was in a casket.

People say that there is a lot of him that lives on in me. And I'm clinging to that like it's a piece of driftwood keeping me from drowning.

I will always remember is the sound of his laugh. The way the sky looked, all big and blue, the day he died. Even though the weathermen had predicted snow and had been for weeks, spring suddenly came the day that my grandpa left this world. And I firmly believe that he was the one who made the sky like that.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. I love you.

In sweet ecstasy while the ages roll
Will you meet in Heaven someday?

11:11 PM thoughts

I used to have a blog on blogspot before, but I lost the URL. It had been a while since I wrote an entry. But I decided tonight that it was time that I do. Because I miss those nights were I'd stay up late just to type something nobody would ever see. It's something personal, for me, just to reflect on. And maybe someday someone will come across it. Maybe that person will be effected by what I write, maybe not. Maybe someone won't think I'm totally crazy. But you know what, if they do, that's okay. I know my feelings for some things are real. I may be a naive 15 year old sometimes, but I'm not a total imbecile. My mind works in many ways.

One of the main purposes for this blog is for me to express my thoughts. That's what I do a lot -- I think. I think about life, love, peace, everything. I'm scatterbrained. And I'm not the type of person to write a poetic blog that takes hours to decipher. This blog will be straightforward and easy to read. It's my thoughts. I'm not writing to impress anybody, because I don't think my writing is interesting enough to keep a person captivated enough to read it. But I am a writer, or so I tell myself, so I'm not going to write random, pointless things. Life is short, the universe is vast. It's meant to be thought about. It's meant to be questioned. It's meant to be believed.

At the moment, I'm sitting at my laptop in my living room, the album From Under The Cork Tree by Fall Out Boy playing from my iTunes. I have just had some friends leave because it's getting late. The family is asleep, so I have time to think. Right now, I'm thinking about the prime years of my life. I don't know when they will happen. I don't know if I'm living them now. Life lately has sucked quite a bit, but you know, maybe it makes me a better person. Maybe I can benefit from the death of my grandfather or the loss of a friend, as terrible as it sounds. I don't want to look back on this part of my life as an idiot teenager, sulking and suffering and being emo. Life can be tough, and there will always be obstacles until the day I die. The way I react to things shows the type of person I am. I've already been told I'm mature beyond my years, but I'm sure I can mature more. Just because I'm just a kid it doesn't mean I can't take matters into my own hands. Nobody has control over my life but me and G-d. Now, don't think me a total anarchist. I do follow the directions of adults when I know that they are right and they are trying to steer me to the right place, because after all, they have been there before while I'm still learning. But if I know what they're doing is wrong, then of course I'm going to take a stand. Because that's what people true to themselves do.

And that's what I want to be more than anything.