the hardest goodbye

Greiving my drunken grandfather.

My hardest goodbye in 15 years of life has been to my grandfather. Even though I never actually said goodbye. I walked out of the hospital room without knowing it would be the last time I ever did so. I never got my apology, and I never got to apologize. It was heartbreaking and freeing in a way. I grieved him life and death.
When I was 13 my family had to send my grandpa to the hospital because he kept blacking out momentarily and standing up saying he was fine; even though he wasn't. Come to find out that 30 years of drinking every day does catch up to someone. He was told by doctors to quit drinking alcohol. As a family we tried to support him in a journey to sobriety, sadly if you know anything about addiction you know you can't help someone who does not want it.
The pain I felt every time I found a bottle of vodka in his truck will haunt me. He bought me a nice teal yeti water jug; I was so happy that he did. I left it in his truck and in the afternoon when I went to go get it, I heard a voice in the back of my head telling me to check the back pocket of his seat. Low and behold 12 ounces of liquor that was slowly killing him was there. When I found it, I stayed calm and went to tell my aunts and grandma. Everyone immediately yelled at him. It was aggravating to find out he was still drinking. So much so I eventually stopped talking to him, letting him drive me to school, and being around him.
I'd have to be a fool to say I didn't understand why he was the way he was. He was grieving his own father's passing. Him and his father weren't close until my grandmother (God bless her heart) pushed him to get closer to him. He was his best friend; he never had many friends. My great grandfather passed away on my birthday when I was in 5th grade. I remember walking to my class when my grandma walked up to me and told me she was leaving early, I didn't know why, but now I do. His best friend has passed away....
After that his 6 pack of beer a day turned into 10. As time went on and the pain got deeper, it became liquor. Something that hits harder, I wonder how many of our last times i spent time with him he was actually sober, how much of it does he remember?
At 14 I decided never talking to him was the best way to protect myself. I said maybe 100 words to him between when I made that decision and his passing. I regret that every day, I don't think he'd want me to carry that weight on my heart. One day I will let it go.



Through my youth, his drunkenness and my grief I loved him and continue to.