My Grandparents

My Opa and Fafa passed away within 4 months of each other last year. The 4th of July and Thanksgiving will always be different for me. I think my mom took their deaths the hardest. I cried...A LOT. I catch myself thinking about it sometimes and it chokes me up. Two weeks ago I was laying in bed remembering the conversations I'd have with my Opa over the phone. The way he pronounced my name with his thick Dutch accent. The way he'd ask if I wanted to speak to Hoppy, but then correct himself and say, "I mean Oma." (My cousins call my Oma, Hoppy). How he got me hooked on cheetos by introducing me to the cheese balls in the can. I'd go to get them out of the corner pantry and pinch my fingers in the turn-a-bout shelves. I'm grateful that Pieter got to meet the man I named him after even if he will never remember it. For Pieter's 1st birthday my Opa and Oma sent him a card with this picture in it.


I keep it in his baby book (the one I have yet to actually put together). It makes me sad looking at the picture bc I regret not calling more. My Oma's still alive and I find it hard to call her bc I'm scared to get too close. I know I'm being selfish, and I hate it. I remember them being so full of life, my Opa still with his arm and not having to wear an emergency button around his neck. I hate that my Oma can barely hear or see anything. Her mind is 100% there but her body is slowly fading. I miss driving to the store to get candy for a movie. I miss having a million different markers to choose from, even the ones that smelled like different fruits. I miss the Unsolved Mysteries music at night even though it scared me. I'm mad at myself for switching over my verizon phone and forgetting to record my Opa's funny voicemails beforehand :-(

As you can tell I've always been closer to my dad's parents. There are a lot more memories. My Fafa passed away right before Thanksgiving last year. My mom was a mess. I was going with Nick up to Santa Cruz when I found out. I cried in the car. I cried a lot that night when I was talking to my mom and sisters on the phone. Pieter was lucky enough to meet my Fafa as well. He seemed so healthy at the time, and his death was pretty sudden and very unexpected. He died of a heart attack. I remember the fun Christmas's we had and the scary crabbing trips in WA. I miss the house they lived in when we were kids. The huge fire wood holder that Candice fell into, the antique tv that sat on the floor where Candice and I would sit watching Captain Kangaroo. There's a certain pine smell that brings back so many memories.

Anyway, right now my Grandma isn't doing so hot. After my Fafa died she's been going downhill, both physically and mentally. I spent a little over a year working with Shirley who had severe Alzheimer's but it wasn't progressing nearly as bad as my grandmother's. My mom's a wreck right now and I feel like there's nothing I can do. I talked to my Grandma on the phone when I was in Florida and yes, she sounded fine until she couldn't remember my name at the end of the conversation. I'm happy my mom gets to talk to her almost as much as she's like to. I'm glad that my Grandma's passing won't come as a complete shock like my mom's father's death was. I just want my mom to be happy. I miss her being 100% happy. I miss my family. I wish I could be closer to them. I wish my grandfather's were alive so they could see me get married. I wish my Grandma had her mind back. I wish my Oma had her eye sight and hearing back. I miss them the way they were when I was a child.