Memories

Several months ago, Husband's dad started working on converting their old family movies from VHS format to DVDs, and making copies so that each kid has a set of their family movies. When they found out that MIL was pregnant with Husband, FIL went out and bought one of those old over-the-shoulder video cameras, which were, of course, top of technology at the time. And they proceeded to record memories, from the time Husband was born until about 1999, so 11 years' worth of memories. I get to see how my husband grew up, and believe me, that can be very valuable. Last night after we put G and J to bed, we stayed up to do laundry and watch these movies, and it came down to a scene of Husband's and his sister's combined birthday party, when Husband would have been turning 5. The only other family members there were his paternal grandparents. Husband's Grandad died about 2 years ago, right after Husband came home from his Afghanistan deployment. J is named for Grandad but they never met in person. We went home for the funeral and that was the first real time I've ever seen Husband sit down and cry. He doesn't do that much. But there he sat, in those rows, in his Class A's uniform as one of the pallbearers, crying over his grandad. We have much respect, and owe much, to Grandad, as a family.

Last night as we watched that video about his birthday party, Husband started telling me about when he turned 12...but he couldn't finish the sentence for awhile. He started crying again. Second time in our marriage that I've ever seen him cry, and both times were over his grandad. Finally he finished it. When he turned 12, his grandad came by to ask FIL if he could take Husband fishing. And so they went out to the local creek, which is a popular fishing spot, and sat in Grandad's boat for 3 hours. No fish were caught. Not even a nibble. But that whole 3 hours, Grandad told Husband stories, about his childhood, his family, and things that were important to him. I don't know what details there are beyond that, but it got me thinking about my own time similar to that, when I was a teenager.

As the product of a split family, and then a blended family, I have more than one set of grandparents, and so my family has become rather large. I've spent a decent amount of time with every facet of my family. Even when my biodad and mom split in 1993, it didn't tear me away from my paternal family, and they welcomed my mom into the fold just like she was still their DIL, and indeed, to this day, my stepdad has become a loved part of my paternal family as well. Awkward? Sometimes. Especially since at my wedding my stepdad and biodad sat RIGHT next to each other in the front row. But it's my family and I love them all. My biodad's parents are affectionately referred to as MawMaw and PawPaw. PawPaw has a memory like a steel trap most of the time, and family history (and numbers, a talent I inherited from him) are especially foremost in his mind. One of our favorite things to do when I was a teenager was to go down to the basement and play ping pong. We could get competitive sometimes, but my favorite memory was the time we batted the ball back and forth for over an hour as I listened to my PawPaw tell me stories of his childhood, my family history and ancestry, and all sorts of his adventures. And so as Husband sat and cried over this particular memory of his own grandad telling him his past, I began to get teary on my own, thinking of, and dreading, the day when I'd see pictures and videos of my PawPaw, and of course, then my Gramps and Grandpa, and remember times when I spent time with them....only to know that they aren't there anymore. I'm fortunate enough that all my grandpas are alive. Gramps is my mom's dad, and Grandpa is my stepdad's dad. I don't know my stepmom's parents; they got married after I did so she wasn't a huge part of my childhood. MawMaw and Grama (counterpart to Gramps) are also both still alive and in pretty good health, considering their ages, but Grandma, counterpart to Grandpa, died last year of dementia, and that's still painful as well, remembering all the things she taught me and gave me.

Growing older is hard. Even if I'm not old, people I love are starting to be. I already know I'm going to fall to pieces when my grandparents pass on, and when my mom or stepdad go, I don't know how I'm going to deal with that. Death is a hard part of life, and while I'm not exactly scared to die myself, I'm scared of my loved ones dying.