There's the link of the song. There's no video to it, so you'll just have to give it a listen. This one is for my grandpa.
That's my grandpa. He was one of the last true John Wayne's of this world, in my opinion. He wasn't a man of many words, but when he did speak... You couldn't help but listen. The knowledge in this man's head was endless.
Grandpa Dillman was the father to my biological mom. It's no secret to anyone that knows me, Mom passed away when I was one. I'm not going to go into all of that because that's not what this is about. I've obviously had some time to process that, but Grandpa... That happened this year. January 25, 2017 was the worst day of my life. I lost the man that called me my mom's name more than he called me mine. His death was... Unnatural. That's all I will say about that part.
It's no secret that I struggled with his loss. My heart hurt more than I ever knew possible. I couldn't sleep for weeks, yet I struggled to get out of bed. I forced myself to go through the routine that was life with a pseudo-smile on my face. It was all fake. I hid the amount of pain I was feeling behind maladaptive coping skills and emotional suppression. I shut myself off from most of my friends. I cried. More than I've ever cried in this lifetime. I have experienced loss in my life, so why was this one so painful? Why was this one cutting me to the very core of my soul? He was 91... He'd lived a really good life. Death happens, right? Not in the way that it happened to him & I replayed it over & over.
I sought support from a select few of my classmates, a select few friends, and my own therapist. With that came a realization that I was not only mourning the loss of my grandfather, I was finally feeling the loss of losing my mother. Losing her at one, I didn't understand. I did not know what it meant. This death was the first death I've experienced wholly. I understood what death meant. I understood the gut-wrenching pain that came with losing someone you love. The weight of losing my grandfather combined with an acknowledgment of losing my mom was so incredibly heavy.
I obviously came out of this on the other side, but experiencing this gave me my first true test of 2017. Here I was, working towards a brand new me and the world comes in and knocks me on my ass, taking away the air that I breathe. I wanted to give up on my plans for a happier me. What was there to be happy about? Why should I be happy when there is so much pain?
This man would be incredibly disappointed in me if I gave up. I suffered through the weeks after his passing with the support of some family members, my friends, and my professors, supervisors, and classmates at school. They supported me as I processed the trauma of the loss. They encouraged self-care and healing. They all provided words of encouragement, but ultimately, it was up to me to pick myself up off the ground and continue to move forward. No one else could make my legs take one step at a time. No one else could get me out of bed and brush my teeth or hair. No one else could dress me and get me to Wichita for work or school. That had to be me. I had to do it. I had to do it for my grandpa because I refuse to let him down.
I walk. I try to get in a few walks a week, but I make sure that once a week, I walk to the cemetery and visit my grandpa. It's something I need to do for myself. Sometimes I just stop briefly and tell him I love him before I go visit others who have passed before/after him. Other times, I take the earbuds out and I have a lengthy conversation with him. I'm working towards the healing. I'm not bitter about the circumstances anymore. There is no point in wasting my energy on hate and anger, so I decided to turn that into something positive.
My big brother and I recently got matching tattoos in honor of my grandpa. We got his brand. I added his signature on mine so that I can always have him visible to me and remember his cheesy, new-teeth smile and terrible driving skills in his old age. People always tried to comfort me after his passing and I love the stories and hearing how much impact he had on so many people. I couldn't talk about it in public for awhile because I couldn't avoid the tears, but it's getting easier.
I will never forget January 25, 2017 for as long as I live. I don't want to forget the pain or the sadness because that helped me learn to allow myself to feel those things. But I don't want to forget the healing either. I've got a long way to go, but I continue to take it day by day and step by step.
This was taken from the land I inherited from my Grandpa. I have no doubt that he was right there in that pasture with me... Him and Mom...
Sometimes, I decide to take my walk out in the country on my little slice of heaven. I needed an outlet earlier this week, so I went out there where I could run, scream, walk, cry... I saw this lonely sunflower at the top of one of the hills and I just thought it was peaceful. I needed a little peaceful and beauty in my life.
I'm going to close because this one is a long one. It's not easy for me to talk about this, but I'm trying to embrace this vulnerability piece. I felt like it was important to get one of the more difficult parts out of the way in the beginning.
Listen to Chris LeDoux. Grandpa wasn't the first to buy a beer, but he'd sure be the first to buy a coffee or a cachapino (that's how he pronounced cappuccino). He's still out there riding fences and making his living with his rope... You just can't see him from the road.
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