It’s on long drives that I allow myself to miss him the most. Or maybe it’s just the season that really makes me miss him. The oranges, the reds, the yellows. All of the colors he isn’t here to see.
Last October, I spent nearly every day visiting my granddaddy in rehab. He broke his hip on the last day in September, and had to undergo surgery & then stay in rehab. He recovered in that month of rehab and was home before Thanksgiving. Even though he didn’t want to be in rehab, I am so thankful for those days I spent with him. I would bring him a Diet Coke and crackers. We talked about the weather, how his physical therapy went, or who else had visited that day. Or, I would ask about his military days or childhood. We watched Bonanza or The Andy Griffith Show, and often, I was there to tuck him into bed. I brought photographs for his room, and he would point to them and smile. It was the month of my first wedding anniversary, so I know we talked about my wedding then, too. Oh, I am so thankful he was at my wedding.
Some days, I pick up the phone and for a second, just a second, I want to call and see how Granddaddy is doing. And, then the realization hits me, and it never gets easier.