Wednesday, May 18, 2011

He Did It His Way

This picture sums up my Pop-Pop so well.

In college I became involved with Relay for Life and when I was asked why I relayed, I would always respond, “My Pop-Pop.” Sure, I had other family members affected by cancer, but I was too young to understand cancer until the ugly disease struck my grandfather my senior year of high school.

My Pop-Pop was the patriarch of my dad’s family in every sense. We all adored him and looked to him for guidance and leadership. To be blunt, it was hard not to love the man. He was the “class clown” of the family and always played practical jokes on everyone around him. For instance, he had a cleft chin and when my cousins and I asked him what happened he made up an elaborate story of how he ran into a doorknob when he was younger. He was our hero and we ate up any and everything he said.

Pop-Pop also had a serious side, especially when it came to his family. In high school I experienced my first heartbreak. Shortly after my break-up, I was at a family party when my grandmother asked me how my boyfriend was doing. I guess she hadn’t heard the news of our split. My eyes welled with tears and my Pop-Pop immediately intervened and asked me to step outside with him. Once we excused ourselves, he pulled me into a hug without any questions and stood with me while I cried. 

My senior year of high school rolled around and with that came graduation. A few weeks before graduation my classmates and I had to turn in the names of family members and friends who would be attending our ceremony. My parents broke the news to me that my grandparents would be unable to attend. Their excuse didn’t exactly add up and I remember seething with anger that my grandparents would miss their oldest grandchild’s graduation. My dad looked hurt when I expressed my disappointment and I couldn’t comprehend why he didn’t understand my irritation. 

My graduation party took place a few weeks after my graduation ceremony. My Pop-Pop was in attendance and had to leave early because he wasn’t feeling well. He came up to me with tears in his eyes and apologized profusely. That's the first time a warning bell went off in my head that something could be wrong.

Later that night my mom and I were rehashing the party when my Pop-Pop’s early exit came up. My mom looked at me and uttered the dreaded words, “Laura, your grandfather has lung cancer.” I found myself gasping for air. It felt as though I had been socked in the stomach. I starred at her in disbelief as she explained how my parents had hid his illness from me since April (it was June at the time), as they didn’t want to ruin what should have been a happy time for me. As I tried to absorb what my mom was telling me, I remembered the resentment and selfishness I had portrayed when my parents told me my grandparents would be unable to attend my graduation. I have never felt more ashamed in my life. 

I went off to college as my grandfather entered the intense phases of chemo to fight his illness. At Christmas he looked gaunt, but he put on a brave face for all of us. My Pop-Pop was a huge Penn State fan, so he always gave me a hard time (all in good fun) for going to Virginia Tech. I gave him a Virginia Tech Grandpop sweatshirt for Christmas and as he opened it he looked up with a twinkle in his eye and said, “This is really great! I’ll have to find some duct tape to put over Virginia Tech and write Penn State!”

I never had the opportunity to see him wear that sweatshirt, but my dad told me he always wore it to chemo and would brag about me to any and everyone who would listen. Once he passed, my uncle and aunt gave it to me to hold on to. I don't think I will ever receive a more meaningful gift.

When I came home from my freshman year for the summer, my dad told me my grandfather was not doing well. He took me to visit him and I was blindsided as I walked in to my grandparents’ home and saw my bald grandmother. During my Pop-Pop’s fight with cancer, my Mom-Mom found out she had breast cancer. As if seeing my grandmother without hair wasn’t hard enough, the sight of my frail grandfather sent me over the edge. He once joked he shopped in the “Chubby” section, and yet he was thinner than I was when I saw him. I had to excuse myself to pull myself together.

Once I returned to the room to visit with my Pop-Pop, he immediately started singing “New York, New York” to lighten up the mood of the room. Even in one of his weakest moments, he tried to put a smile on my face. This was a true testament to my grandfather’s character. 

A few days later, on May 18, 2006, my grandfather lost his battle with lung cancer surrounded by those he loved.

His viewing and funeral were extremely difficult for all of us, however my grandfather still managed to get my family to laugh a few times, even from heaven. The power went out at his viewing, and we all had to chuckle amidst our tears. Pop-Pop had gotten his last practical joke in. In addition, my dad gave the eulogy and had the church laughing over some of my grandfather’s infamous lines.

I’ll never forget how packed the church was and how long the procession of cars stretched on the way to the gravesite. My dad said my grandfather never would had believed all of those people came to say goodbye to him. Instead, he would say they were there to support his wife, kids, and grandkids. I don’t think he understood the lasting impression he made on people. 

My family lost an integral part of our family five years ago today. I miss him with every fiber of my being.  This past weekend my dad’s family got together to celebrate both my cousin’s graduation from high school and my brother’s graduation from college. Surrounded by the love, laughter, and pure joy, it was quite clear that my Pop-Pop was present, especially when the sun came out for our family wiffle ball game. He always loved watching his 13 grandkids and 6 kids goofing off and enjoying one another’s company. I have no doubt in my mind that he was smiling down on us from heaven, as we carried on his legacy. 



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