tobacco leaves

sometimes i think about dying. mostly what it's like to come to the end of life and realize it. will i feel like my life was well lived? will i regret or will i embrace my days.

i sat and watched him. the man that i've loved my whole life but not known especially well. his skin like yellow crape paper covering a man that had the temper of a bull but a heart of gold. now more introspective he looked at me and said "maybe i've just been here too long"

i traveled all the way to kentucky to tell him a story of gratitude. of one moment in my life that still stings my heart because i knew that my grandfather loved me more than i could ever imagine. the one thing i wanted him to know before it was too late.

i moved away when i was three. i have one memory of living in kentucky, but i have so many memories of him in the summers i spent on the farm. of the way the dairy smelled, driving tractors, bee stings by the pond, macuricomb on cuts, a shared birthday and the way the tobacco leaves looked hanging in the black barn. but mostly his belly laugh. he laughed so hard when he told stories. and so many stories were in his mind, i always think about how his life seemed so much like a movie.

i left the house and went in a tail spin. 2 days later i landed at my husbands grandparents to celebrate thanksgiving but i wasn't particularly thankful in that moment. i was hurt that i had to live so far from him. i felt disconnected and bitter. my grandfather was dying and i just wanted to be with him. i wanted to be in kentucky, i wanted to ask him hard questions and not feel awkward. but caught somewhere else i just sat inside my head and hoped for another chance.

he was so sick and my heart hurt for him and what he must have thought while he sat and looked out that window. this man that was once so strong, full of opinions, quiet.

he passed away this morning and as i collect my things to start my trip i'm holding on to those memories of how much he loved me. i know that if the purpose of life is to make a difference to someone else, he lived well.