"All we have left is memories now..."

Remember when you were a kid and your parents would be on the phone with their relatives? Your aunt, uncle, grandparent, etc.? And you just happened to be walking by and hear them say "Oh yes, she's good. She's actually right here, hold on." Then you drag your feet to the phone and have the typical conversation with someone you don't really know.

"How's school?" 
"Good" 
"How's your other sibling?" 
"Good." 
"You behaving yourself?" 
"Yes..."

My conversations with my grandpa were different. Grandpa would then go into a speech. I would never get it at the beginning, just a general topic about life, but I would still listen. The speech would get more detailed and he would grab my attention by hitting the nail on the head by saying something that directly had to do with a current situation in my life. Whether it was about friendships, relationships, work or school, he always had an encouraging word. 

I always hung up the phone grateful that I just happened to walk by at the right time to have the right conversation with my grandpa to get me through whatever I was dealing with at that time. When he started to get sicker, it was my turn to return the favour. I reminded him to look on the bright side, to give thanks, keep his head up.

I have a very real fear of hospitals and he went in the last days of our trip to the UK. Everyone went up to see him, and I couldn't get past the lobby. Actually, I didn't even get to the lobby. I stood at the doors.
I always planned to call him when I was visiting in Toronto when he got out of the hospital, just to encourage him one more time, to have one more special conversation just between us...but we never had that call.

And that's selfish of me. Because he was in a lot of pain and it was time for him to be at peace. So I'm throwing away this silly concept of guilt, this idea of not having done enough. Many people don't get to create memories with their grandparents. God gave me several with this man."All we have left is memories now, Steph". That's what my grandma said when I spoke with her on the phone. And I will cherish all of those memories.

Love you, Grandpa. R.I.P.