Currently my belly is adorned with 8 staples and I feel a pang of pain every time I casually pick something out of the floor (which happens a lot with a 7 month old and a dog). I had my appendix taken out. I was rushed to the hospital on a Monday afternoon, and after ten-ish hours in the emergency room, I had my surgery done. Had to spend a couple of days at the hospital and all that on the week of my 31st birthday – so much for making plans…
The day I got back from the hospital some idiot bumped into my (stationary!) car…
Today I got the news that my grandfather, on my father’s side, has passed away. He was 95 on the same day I was 31. He didn’t suffer. He just felt tired and slept…
I remember well one of our lastest conversations.’So when are you getting married?’ he asked me, out of nowhere. ‘I don’t think I’m ever getting married, grandpa. Why?’ I half expected a you’re-living-in-sin kind of speech. ‘Because I want to eat cake!’ he told me, a mischievous smile on his face. I laughed so hard! I told him that I would bring him cake, it didn’t have to be from a wedding, but he insisted that wedding cakes just taste better because ‘everyone is happy’.
Rest in peace, grandpa.
