On Thanksgiving.
His favorite holiday of the year.
It's been a year.
One. Year.
I really miss him.
When I call my grandma's house, and I get her answering machine, my heart stops as I hear my grandpa's voice telling me to leave a message. "Grandpa ... I miss you. I love you." I want to say, hoping that he can hear me.
Several weeks ago I had a pretty hard day. We opened up a jar of apple butter that my grandparents made. That afternoon, while cleaning, the Blue Angels were practicing formations outside -- my grandpa loved air shows and took me to my first and only air show when I was a little girl. I remember his smile that day. He was a pilot, and he loved his airplanes. He took my brother & I up in his airplane one day, showing us tricks that airplane pilots love to do. We did rolls and dips. I was frantic, my brother became alive.
I know that God has a plan for each and every one of us. It brings me great comfort knowing that someday I will see my grandpa again. That I will one day see all my loved ones that will eventually pass from this world. I have had several dreams about my grandpa. In one of my dreams, I ask him how he's doing, and he said "I'm happy! I'm doing great! I feel great!"
I'm glad my grandpa is no longer in pain, no longer suffering from his injuries or health conditions.
I saw this poem, and I immediately loved it:
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift upflinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight
I am the soft star-shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I did not die.