A death in the family

My grandfather and me in the mid-nineties. 

First rule of a wake: Don’t run out when you’re almost to the receiving line (rude) then come back 20 minutes later claiming you had to smoke a cigarette (total lie). Especially when people know you don’t smoke. Especially when people probably saw you run out the funeral home crying.

I went to a wake 14 months ago, only 9 months after my own grandfather died. I didn’t even know the man that died. I mean, I knew him and met him here and there but not worthy of me running-out-of-the-building-crying know. I was crying because my friend didn't have a grandfather anymore. I don't have a grandfather anymore. 

I just don’t know how to handle sadness and put it away like others. My grandfather died two years ago and on my first day of college, nonetheless. And I live four hours away. My dad told me the news over FaceTime and if you don’t ever have to see your dad cry over FaceTime, DON’T. 

I couldn’t talk on the phone for a few days after the news and found myself tearing up in class. Still today, any missed call from my parents means bad news to me. My amazing, born and bred Italian grandfather was full of life and joy with always a twinkle in his blue eyes and I was the opposite after he died. I knew my grandfather wouldn’t want me to be sad but I couldn’t put it away and I found my first year of college hard.

When I went home for the funeral I bought a new pair of black heels for the occasion and the new Arctic Monkeys album that had just been released using the dwindling money from my summer job. I made myself look pretty and tried to be badass while listening to badass music. It was hard. I remember hugging and sobbing into the shoulder of one of my cousins from the other side of my family while his wife tried to console me. It didn't help.

My favorite picture of my grandfather, Ennio, and me in November 2011.

My grandfather was one of my biggest supporters. If my sister and I liked something, he liked it too. If we needed $10 he gave us $20. If we were hungry, he went to the backyard to his garden and peeled us fruits and veggies. When I traveled to Italy in July 2012, I think he was happier and more excited than I was. My grandfather was everything and more to us. A first best friend and a loving old man my sister and I would play pranks on constantly. 

And, yes, I once did run out of a funeral home, came back 20 minutes later claiming to have taken a smoke break. And, yes, it doesn’t work as an excuse but no one is ever mad at a crying teenager. There are people out there that are a grandfather short and that made me sad at the time. So do me a favor and hug your grandparents tonight.