I Hate Change

GrandMother Knows Best

The most painful thing I’ve ever experienced was witnessing the burial of my grandmother. Til’ this day, it’s still something I find very difficult to talk about.

Now, her passing didn’t come as a complete shock to us as a family because she had been sick for several months. She had been in and out of hospitals for the last few years due to different inflictions.

Her last stay had her there for half the year in which we came very close to losing her a few times so we understood that her time on this planet might be coming to an end.

Over the years, my grandmother held no punches and made sure that we understood that one day she would transition. She would often tell us that,

“we all have to leave this world at some point.”

Now I know that sounds pretty morbid and it’s certainly nothing none of us wanted to hear but we needed to hear it.

I think the reason why she mentioned the subject of death is that she wanted us prepared for when that time would come.

She didn’t want us falling to pieces like mush and “acting a fool” whenever she finally did “leave this world’ so when she was wheeled out the house on a stretcher the last time, I got this feeling that this could be it.

That this could be the beginning of her “leaving this world.”

Unfortunately, I was right.

I just thought that we had more time.

I thought that my grandmother would pull through like she always did and had good reason to believe that because of her track record.

My grandmother had always been a strong woman and a constant winner in life. It didn’t matter how big of an obstacle she had to overcome because she was always able to clear each and every hurdle like an olympic gold medalist.

When she died, it rocked me to my core and I have to admit that I cried all night and day.

I was able to hold back the tears at the hospital but when I got home, my room was like the Nile River from all the tears that came running from my face.

You know, saying goodbye to a loved one is never easy and saying it to your childhood home is no picnic either.

The house that my grandparents raised me in has now been sold.

We found out that my grandparents had taken out a loan on the house which thanks to compounding interest, was too great to repay back and the house was put up for sale and eventually sold.

We had less then two weeks to get everything out the house. Moving everything out of my grandparent’s house was the second most painful thing I ever had to do endure.

Imagine being gut punched by a young Mike Tyson then multiply that by a thousand and that would be the perfect description of how I was feeling at the time.

It felt as though I was burying my grandmother all over again. Obviously, there’s no comparison between an inanimate object such as a house to one of the greatest human beings to ever grace this place called Earth but it wasn’t just a house though.

It was home.

It was my childhood.

It was home to my grandparents, my great aunt as well as my brother. I watched my grandparents turn that house into a home with their own blood, sweat & tears.

Hell, I had a huge part in rebuilding the house as well. Pretty much, everything in that house from the shower hose to the downstairs curtains in the living room had my fingerprints all over it.

Everything that I watched my father and stepbrother take apart, I, along with my grandmother, had assembled.

I felt completely powerless because I would see my father packing up all of her china and figurines from her cabinets and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

I had to do my damndest to fight back tears as I hurried upstairs to my room.

I just couldn’t believe that the house that my grandparents brought was no longer theirs. I was with them when they brought the place some 30 years ago.

I still remember very vividly how I felt when I first saw the house after they got settled in it.

It was like being in a castle.

The house was only 1400 sq ft. so it wasn’t a very big home but it felt a whole lot bigger especially for a kid like myself who was used to living in small apartments and duplexes.

I felt like the Fresh Prince did when he got out of the cab in Bel-Air and pulled up to Uncle Phil’s mansion. I told my parents the same thing Will told the cabbie,

“Yo, homez smell ya later.”

*Sidenote: My parents don’t stink as people but their judgment does at times.

Parents Just Don’t Understand & Nor Do They Care To

Speaking of my parents, where do I start?!

I was extremely disappointed on how they handled or mishandled in this case, everything having to do with the sale of the house.

My mom is Mrs. Panic which is the reason for her being so inept at exercising sound judgement when it comes to making sound decisions.

And of course, being that she’s my grandparents’ oldest living child gave her carte blanche on the decision-making process pertaining to my grandparents’ estate which I would say was poorest at best.

My mother is who she is and I love her.

I wasn’t really mad her for not knowing certain details when it pertains to selling property.

I was, moreso, frustrated with her because we actually had an opportunity to keep the house but she ended up turning it down.

We had a relative who was willing to purchase the house and we would pay him back on a monthly basis.

When my mother first told me about this, I can’t explain how elated I was but it was to be short-lived. She ended up slamming the door shut on that idea a few days later.

Til’ this day, I still don’t know exactly why she turned it down.

What brought even more hurt to me is when I got into it with my father over all of this stuff. Now I don’t really want to delve into too many details on why we got into the argument but it pretty much stems from both of us and our foolish pride.

See, he moved around a lot when he was growing up so he never really got attached to things like I did.

This is the only home that I’ve ever known and a lot of my sweat equity is built up in this house as well.

Those outlets that he was using for the vaccum, I installed them.

That microwave cart that he and my step brother were pushing out of the garage and into the moving truck, I put that together.

Just like my grandparents, I contributed greatly to the household on many different ways that my father doesn’t even know about. Although we had our blowup, I don’t fault him though.

In fact, when I look back at it now, I realized that my father was grieving just like I was. He was just too proud to admit it just like how my grandfather would often act.

When my grandfather would get anxious, he would blow a gasket on everything and everybody as well. I take it as it being part of the whole grieving process for some of us menfolk.

Also, my father is a lot older now and his nerves are not of the ironclad nature they used to be.

My father was stoic in his approach and didn’t fear anything in his younger days. Now he’s more anxious and his hand gets to shaking more then Winona Ryder’s in a store filled with Versace purses.

These days, I have to handle my dad with kitten gloves because his nerves are more fragile then all of my grandmother’s fine china that he removed from her china cabinet.

Blood In, Blood Out Whether We’re Familia Or Not

Believe it or not, knowing that you’re losing your home isn’t the hardest thing to deal with. Knowing that someone who’s very dear to you is also moving on is even more gutwrenching.

This someone is a woman who I consider to be one my “great aunts” who had to be sent to live with her relatives far, far away from me.

The reason for the quotes is because she’s not directly family but she was a caregiver for my aunt for decades up until her passing so that pretty much makes her family in my eyes.

Plus, she played a huge role in me and my brother’s upbringing.

Her family had been wanting her to come back to the country to stay with them for quite some time now even before my grandmother passed. Her brother who had been away from the family home for 40 years, came back and wanted her to come back home to live with him as well.

I’m thinking that she just has some unfinished business with her family that needs to be cleared up before she leaves this world.

I just want her taken care of with the same tender, love & care that she gave to all of us.

Step-Brotherly Love

I mentioned my stepbrother earlier because he played a big role in helping us move out the house before the sale deadline.

I’m so thankful to be able to call him my brother and for the world of advice he gave me that helped me get through a very trying period in my life.

At the time he was talking to me, I didn’t really want to hear it and to be flat out honest, I didn’t really want to bothered at all.

Sometimes, you need somebody telling you the very thing that while you may not want to hear it, you need to hear it. Him giving me his perspective proved to be great for my soul.

He shared with me a personal story about how he was stressing over material things when a man, whom he does business with, told him that he needed to keep his mind on what’s really important and that’s family.

The man said to him,

“as long as your family is being provided for, you will be provided for.”

Now that’s what I call some sound advice from an elder which I took to heart.

GrandPapa Don’t Preach

Real elders are crucial to any family dynamic which is one of the many reasons I miss my grandfather.

I miss the great talks he used to have with me and my brother. Another thing I miss is the way that he used to mow the lawn back in the day. I took over that mantle once he passed but when he was living, I wouldn’t go nowhere his lawnmower.

He didn’t like anybody else “cutting the yards” but him.

“That was his exercise,” he used to all tell us all the time.

He would go out there in his overalls with his wallet snuggily tucked in his back pocket and go to work and it was a lot of work too. The house itself might not have been that big but the actual lot was a pretty decent size.

After he finished cutting, he would take a seat on the wooden bench I made right in front of his shed. Sometimes, I would catch him out in that shed and wonder was he just trying to get away from my grandmother.

Don’t get me wrong, They had love for each other but every couple just needs there space at times and he used the shed as his own personal hangout.

I even found a case of wine coolers he had out there after he died. They were stashed behind the overalls he had hanging up. I would imagine that he would have a sip on occasion after he finished mowing the lawn.

One thing, I didn’t realize is that my grandfather had so much stuff in the shed.

He had everything from tire shine, car wax and even ear plugs he took from his job. I had to give away a lot of that stuff because I just didn’t have enough room to store everything.

All the old trimmers, gas blowers and his precious bull saw got thrown away. They had stopped working a long time ago and where in need of major repair.

I did keep his lawnmower though and I’m going to hang on to it for as long as possible. A good lawnmower is like a good woman being that when you find one, your best bet is to hold on to her.

Sibling Rivalry

When I think about all the memories, the big dinners and all the laughs we had in this house, I begin to ask myself,

“What the hell happened.”

We just no longer have that togetherness as a family like we used to have.

My brother and I often lament about how close our family used to be especially when it involves my relationship with one of my younger uncles.

This was a man that I once looked up to but now I don’t even want to look his way when he’s in my presence.

He never seems happy at all and when I do see him, it’s like looking at a sad pitbull’s eyes.

He should be gleaming from ear to ear seeing that his family had first dibs on all the furniture in the home but he wasn’t.

I swear that my uncle is more moodier then a woman pms’ing and he’s always trying to bully people into getting what he wants.

On top of his serious anger issues, I didn’t like how he treated my other uncle. The poor guy already had his mind preoccupied with his own issues in his family and now he had to deal with his mess.

I did learn what was contributing to my younger uncle’s moodiness though. It was because he didn’t get anything from the sale of the home.

It turns out that all that bullying he did towards the realtor didn’t do him any bit of good.

Apparently, the poor lad had an outstanding debt that took all of his cut and a lot of his siblings proceeds as well.

This whole thing was a glorified shit show.

Sometimes, I just wish that I could start over with my family and rebuild this shit over from scratch so that it’s done correctly.

In the end, my uncle did make out rather well considering that he got himself a new fridge FOR FREE. Although, I wonder how he’s going to feel buying those 52 dollar Samsung water filters.

Ah well. That’s his problem now.

He also took home the dryer, the for sale sign from the house from back when it was purchased, my grandmothers’ 38 pistol and my grandfathers’ shotgun.

Plus, he took home some additional furniture including my prized fish tank.

Another Fish In the Sea

Since I’ve been on this Earth, my grandmother has always kept an aquarium around which she referred to as a “fish tank.”

She went from a 35 gallon tank to a 70 gallon and then upgrading to a 90 gallon monster about 13 years ago.

Unfortunately, I had to give it all away. I just didn’t have any room for it so it now sits in my uncle’s living area minus two fish that have passed on and are now swimming in that big tank up in the sky.

A few weeks ago, my uncle notified my mother that two of the fishes had died in which he nearly scared her half to death in a text message he sent to her.

She thought somebody in the family had died when she first read my uncle’s chopped up text message. It took her forever to decipher what he was trying to tell her in that message.

This is his exact quote.

“11 die. Have a disease called dropsy. Going to the store for medicine.”

*FYI: 11 was the name of one of my fish.

I was saddened to hear about my fishes and equally saddened at my uncle’s lack of sentence structure. Apparently, not only can my uncle no longer keep his cool but he can’t font a basic sentence either.

We’ll Leave the Light On For You

One of the hardest things I had to do literally and figuratively was disassembling my aunt’s hospital bed.

After my aunt passed, my grandmother tried to give it back to the company she got it from but they informed her that the bed’s all paid up so it was hers to keep.

Outside of her bed, a few twins bed and a couple of dressers, there wasn’t much else left to move. My grandmother had given just about all of her clothes away after she passed.

In fact, the clothes that were in there belonged to me and my brother. All the stuff we couldn’t fit in our dressers, we put in hers.

One of the last things I did before I left the house was cut her lamp on she used to use as she sat in her chair and did the cartoon puzzles in the funny section of the newspaper.

This was just my way to pay one last tribute to her. Rest in Heaven my dear.

It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesteryear

There’s so many things that I miss about the place but more importantly, I miss the people that brought life into that place.

I miss coming downstairs to a sweet aroma from a delicious meal that my grandmother was whipping up in the kitchen.

I miss the big holiday dinners, the cookouts, and the fish frys. I miss my grandparents laughter as well as their arguments.

I miss seeing them working out in the yard

I even miss my grandmother making me go down to Lowe’s and load up on that orange-reddish mulch once it went on sale.

That 5 bags for 10 bucks had her everytime. It would take about 27 bags to do both lawns but the home looked like it belonged on the front page of Better Homes & Garden once it was complete.

My grandmother always did love a good sale.

She would travel to 16 different stores to save on some Raisin Bran and Chicken of the Sea tuna.

On the subject of the yard, I miss how my grandmother and I would decorate the house during the holiday season

At its peak, we had over 20,000 Christmas lights among many other decorations. The whole house was lit up like the Griswolds’ in Christmas Vacation.

Unfortunately, I had to give all of the decorations away. I just had nowhere to store it all.

To be honest, I had lost a ton of interest in holiday decorating but I wanted to do one more big tribute to my grandmother and for my cousins who we lost in the last year and better.

I guess I’m just going to have to wait until I get things settled but I’m going to do something extravagant one more time as a tribute to my family.

One of the last things but crucial keepsakes that were removed from the house were the photos. There were tons upon tons of photos some whom I’ve never seen before.

Seeing all those photos brought forth sweet memories of the good ol’ days as my grandmother would often lament.

You know what’s interesting though?

Out of all the baby shower photos, all the parties, all the photos of my great aunts, great uncles, grandparents & great-grandparents, there’s a giant picture of my grandmother smack dab in the center.

I thought that was appropriate since she was always in the mix of it all and was the glue that held the family together. Our family is forever better for all the love that she gave to us and now we have a very powerful ancestor watching over all of us.

Before I left the house, I walked in every room one last time and recalled all the fun and good times we had. I smiled, I cried and then I left and I’ve never looked back since.

It’s just too painful to but maybe the pain is part of my growth as person

Who the hell knows?! Because I certainly don’t!