Grandpa...

Two days have passed since my grandpa's death, and I am failing to grasp the reality of it all. A short time ago he was sticking his fingers in my ears, chatting with me on MSN, teasing me about my growing belly, and blending his famous peanut-butter shakes.

It will be a big slap in the face to walk into his house on Thursday and not be met with “hello Annie Jo Lover-lump.” I won’t get the same thrill walking to the post office in Milton to get the mail where he used to be post-master. It won’t feel right to dress up in my mom and aunt’s old clothes if he won’t be there to take my picture.

I have always been blessed with the presence of four wonderful grandparents (and even some great-grandparents), all young, generally healthy, active, vibrant people. I was looking forward to my daughter having the same – four wonderful grandparents - plus all of her great-grandparents and two great-great grandmothers on my side of the family. Though much of this will still be true, my ideas have been shattered by reality, and the death of Grandpa Lacey.

I only wish that I had one more day with him. I wish I had the chance to tell him his first great-granddaughter’s name…he was so excited to be a great-grandpa. Though these opportunities would be ideal, I know that they are not possible. I must be content with the honor I have of carrying on his memory.