For Grandaddy

One of the harsh realities of serving in Peace Corps is that you're disconnected from the world p'alla ("over there" in the U.S.).  Life goes on without you in the States, and sometimes, what happens "over there" is life-changing.  My grandfather died on Monday before I had a chance to really say goodbye.  Therefore, this post is dedicated to his memory.  He was a generous man who demonstrated service for others in his daily life.

Grandaddy was all heart.  His heart just radiated from his being.  You just couldn’t escape it – that gentle smile, those caring eyes.  You felt at home when you were with him.  He was an upstanding man, proud of his family and his roots, and kind, so incredibly kind.

He wasn’t happy unless you were happy.  You didn’t take care of him; oh no, he took care of you.  That’s how he wanted it.  And he made you feel loved, truly loved, as he would tear up when you would depart on the next fight.  And here, as I sit writing this, I’m doing the same thing –crying because you have departed from this world, Grandaddy.

It’s going to be hard to return to North Carolina knowing that you won’t be there to pick me up at RDU as you had so many times before.  The idea of “home” has changed for me now that you’re not there.  You see, you were part of home for me, but now there’s a piece missing.

I can’t possibly say everything, the words escape me now, so elusive they are in my time of need, but perhaps in the simplest terms possible, Grandaddy, I love you, I always have and always will.  I’m so proud to be your granddaughter.  And I miss you.  I will always miss you, Grandaddio.

And if he was reading this now, he would say, "Oh, Lanna, don't make any fuss over me!"  Well, I am, Grandaddy.  I want the world to know how proud of you I am.