All Good Things DO Come to an End

July 2, 2013:

Summertime = fun time, that’s the motto all children go by. Its actually the one all people live by. And Rochelle was no different. School meant a lot to her, but that much more did summer. She lived for it, and thrived on it during the dreary winter days and endless school year. She loved everything it had to offer, not excluding the stifling oxygen and humid heat waves. Particularly this year, as a Freshman graduate, Rochelle embraced the sunshine and freedom with all of her might, fearing for it to slip by too fast like ice cubes through deliciously sweaty palms.

There was though that tiny bit of uneasiness, like a pesky fruit fly that emerges only when fruit emits its’ too strong scent.  Because as much as she loved summer, she loved her Grandpa even more. Grandfather and Rochelle shared a well-kept secret, one that still remains, even after much has changed. He loved her most. He just did, more than any of the grandchildren, of which he had many. Rochelle was close to his heart, and she felt as close to his.

This July, Rochelle felt Grandpa beginning to melt along with the ice cubes in the summer heat. Her mom tried to protect her, and Grandpa’s ever present smile hid his pain well enough to fool all the grandchildren, but not Rochelle. She was smarter and loved him too much to be fooled. But she loved him too much to face the truth, and so she snuggled in the warm coziness of denial. And when he waved her off to camp with a $10 bill (strictly for Canteen use! He had warned with a smile), his head lolling to the side from the pressure of the tumor, she returned the smile and wave, blocking out all but her loving grandpa and his smile.

July 13, 2013:

Summer time = Fun time and Rochelle was lapping it all up, splashing in the blueness of the pool and repeating silly jokes with her friends, in the summer camp she wished would never end. She thought about Grandpa a lot, and Mom kept dropping hints of his poor wellbeing. Which she swatted, out of love for her beloved Grandpa. When she spoke to, Grandma they neatly avoided talk about Grandpa throughout their weekly conversations, but it always ended off with Rochelle’s love message to her Grandpa.  For deep down, she knew what was happening. Which is why she repeatedly bugged Mom to let her come home for a day to spend time with him, and couldn’t understand why the answer was a firm no, time and time again. After such phone calls with Mom, she blocked the situation altogether, until the next time they spoke. The pesky little fruit fly forged on, while grandpa was slowly withering ….

July 19, 2013:

 When the loudspeaker blared during the quiet rest hour, ordering Rochelle to the main office, she KNEW it was over. She urged her feet in the direction of the Camps office, thinking the unthinkable. Receiver clenched in her white knuckled fist, she heard her brother whisper to the most horrible words, ‘It’s over’. As she struggled to replace the phone in its cradle the words cut her heart over and over again. It was OVER. Grandpa was gone. Gone! She felt hew whole being enter a bubble, of which she knew would be almost impossible to emerge from, to a world without her beloved Grandpa. Eyes pooled with tears, she searched for the path leading to….where to? Where to go for some privacy in the public rowdiness of summer camp? Her leaden legs lead her to the dining room lavatories, where she banged the door shut and heaved against the wall, her body wracking in heart wrenching sobs. Each breath she breathed pierced her soul with painful stabs. How can dare she breathe when Grandpa cannot? How dare she live while grandpa is dead? She cried and cried, slapping herself for not begging harder to go home and see him one last time. She cried for herself, for her Mom, for her dear Grandma. For the life she would need to live without him, for the hugs she would never again give or receive, for her children who would never get to love the Grandpa she loved most. Each thought brought about a fresh river of tears. She felt faint, and couldn’t stop the endless stream and rushing thoughts. Most of all, she could never face the awful reality. But she needed to leave the bathroom and prepare for the trip home. She swiped the tears, and maturely made her way back to her bunkroom, where sickening chatter and laughter received her. The pit inside of her deepened, and the bubble surrounding her tightened. Life would just never be the same again.

July 20,2013:

The funeral ceremonies are a part of her life that are etched deep in Rochelle’s bones. It is the marker of ‘Before’ and ‘After’. It was then that the truth set in, watching the coffin which held Her Grandpa being led away…it was when reality couldn’t be denied any longer. Yet she still could not, would not accept and face the new life without Grandpa. In the mourning home, the one which housed the person she loved most, all her grieving aunts were consoled by friends, family and neighbors. But she wasn’t a child of the deceased. She was merely a grandchild, and so no one cared to comfort her. No one cared to look at the broken Rochelle, who believed missed her Grandpa more than anyone else. There secret accompanied her Grandpa to his grave, and only Rochelle would know.

2019:

Life moves on and time does heal emotions, but not circumstances. Grandpa is gone, yet his memory lives with Rochelle, every day. She thinks about him constantly and when she has the will to, can feel his presence at her side. She knows he is watching from above and is proud of the beautiful young women she turned out to. And though she can no longer find comfort by going to visit grandma in the house where he lived, because her Grandma remarried and moved away; she can revisit the good times in her memory, and shed some tears too. Which she does often. Her tears help her mature and face life without Grandpa each day.

And though it is sad, it is definitely true that all good things do come to an end.