My grandfather passed away last night. He went quietly in his sleep, I can’t ask for better than that. I’m mostly all right, I’m at the point where I’m just grateful for the time we had. But I miss him already, even though I haven’t gotten to see him all that often since I moved from Missouri.
His funeral will be Wednesday afternoon. I don’t feel like I need to attend for my own sake. Part of him is with me all the time. I’m debating going anyway, for the rest of my family, especially my aunts and uncles. But it would mean taking both of the kids, so that complicates the whole thing considerably. Everybody’s going to be supportive either way.
I missed my grandmother’s funeral two years ago, and it’s not even guilt that I feel about it, but I just felt so isolated from my family, it still bothers me. I mean, I live almost 800 miles away, and even farther in recent years; it’s not like I get a lot of chances to act like family. And Lord knows I’ve squandered enough chances already. But then I wonder if it’s selfish of me to drag the kids out there for such a reason. On the other hand, it feels at least as selfish to be whining about the logistical difficulties of air travel with two kids. Anyway, I need to decide tonight, if I have any hope of making it there.
Update: I am going to go after all. Laura’s taking a couple days off work to watch both kids, which frees me up to take late night flights. It’ll be a really short trip, but I know I’ll be glad I made it.