You never see "those" calls coming. . . and yet, as my son handed me the phone and said, "It's Grandma. . ." I knew. I just knew.

Such a good man, such a sweet man . . . a wonderful husband to my mother, a Dad to me, always loves his kids and grandkids just the way they are, he's always been the one I went to when I needed advice or just a hug. He loves to call me Lollipop because he knows it irritates me. And now he's gone.

I expected a loss like this to be some violent awful thing, but I guess I just haven't wrapped my mind around it yet. Instead it's like a slow emotion just leaking out a little at a time.

Damn, when I need to write something brilliant for him I can't get it out. . .just a bunch of words.

When we took him to the hospital the other day, he looked at me and said, "Take care of her, " meaning my Mom. "I don't wanna take care of her, that is YOUR job!" I joked.

And then he insisted that Mom get the title to the car out so that he could sign it over for his granddaughter.

He took care of us all. And we will miss him so.

Godspeed, Andy. I love you.


Teresa Zwierzchowski said...

I'm so sorry. I was just thinking about you today.

Lara said...

Thanks, Teresa. My mom says that joy shared is twice the joy and pain shared is half the pain. . .maybe not half, but it makes it bearable when you have the support of your friens.