In one of my last posts, I mentioned that Hollywood Boyfriend Jeremy Renner’s grandpa was really sick. Grandpa Bob passed away peacefully in the early morning hours on May 13, ten days before his 82nd birthday. He spent the last few weeks of his life surrounded by the family and friends that loved him so dearly.
I haven’t blogged since he passed, not because the world as we knew it came to an end, but because the words I needed to say were not there. And when you lose a man like Grandpa Bob, you have to get it right.
What can I say, though, about a man like Grandpa Bob? I didn’t know how to memorialize him. I didn’t know how to make you understand what a feisty, ornery old cuss he was. I didn’t know how to explain how deep his devotion was to his wife of sixty-three years or how much he cherished his family. And what scared me the most was that if I didn’t know how to make you, reader of this post, understand the caliber of man that our family lost, how could I possibly make sure that the memory of him never leaves my children. Dubya has seven years of memories with Grandpa Bob. Moo Cow’s three just doesn’t seem like enough.
So I’ve been mulling over this blog post for awhile. Trying to do it justice. Trying to pay tribute. Trying to make him proud.
And then, a few weeks ago, this happened:
Dubya and I were cleaning his room and I could see he was becoming discouraged. So I said to him, “C’mon bud, we’re starting to pick up a little bit of speed.”
Dubya looked at me and in a deep voice, he repeated, “We’re picking up a little bit of speed.”
Me: Yep, we’re picking up a little bit of speed.
Dubya, in the same deep voice: “Picking up a little bit of of steam.”
Me, somewhat exasperated: YES.
And Dubya bursts into song, “Well I fooled you! I fooled you! I got pig iron! I got pig iron! I got all pig iron!”
I could have cried. Instead, I gave my Dubya the tightest of hugs and whispered in his ear, “Your Grandpa Bob would be so proud of you.”
See, Grandpa Bob loved Johnny Cash. And to know that he has passed that love on to Dubya, well I think Grandpa Bob would have slapped his knee over that while he grinned from ear to ear. (For those, not catching on, check out this video.)
This is when it hit me, Grandpa Bob’s body may be gone, but he will live forever in my kids. When you love someone as fiercely as he did, you leave a little piece of yourself in that person’s heart. And how could you ever forget that?