Goodbye Grandma / by Brett Sayles

I recently got back from Michigan. I traveled there to attend my grandma's funeral. It was sad of course, but it was also very cool. The cool part was getting to see some family that live far away from me!

Jan, Heather and Barb!

I also got to see an old friend... Vernors!

 The offical drink of cool Michiganders.

The offical drink of cool Michiganders.

I also got to visit a cemetery that I used to haunt as an emo teenager. You can click to cycle through the images.

Here are a few other pictures I took while I was there. Click to see more!

The morning after my grandma left us, I jotted down a few thoughts and posted them to Facebook. The pastor used some of it in the service. I thought I'd post it here for safekeeping. I wasn't trying to write something special, I was just sitting there crying and typing. Just another kid missing his grandma.

My Grandma died.

I'm still a kid. I'm a kid that grew up knowing that no matter what I did, no matter what I said, no matter how ugly I was inside or out, that my Grandma loved me.

Oh, she let me know when I wasn't making her happy and wasn't being the person that I should be. But she loved me in word and deed. Word-and-Deed. It wasn't the sappy greeting card love. It was the kind of love that was strong as steel while being soft enough for big squishy Grandma hugs that smell like apple pie.

I loved that woman.

I have a memory of them. Keep in mind that I don't remember much from my teenage years, but I remember when I was living with them, coming downstairs into the living room. They were both sitting there quietly, my Grandfather sitting in his chair reading his bible. That memory is etched in my mind and I thank God for it. I got a glimpse of why they loved me so much. The love they had for me was just the surface of the ocean of love they had for their God.

I want to be like them. I want to love people even though I don't like what they do. I want people to know it.

I'm a terrible grandson. I'm a horrible son. I hope I'm a better husband and father... But I try. I didn't talk to her enough. I didn't let her know how I felt about her enough. I'll own that.

But I see her and my grandfather every day. I think about them every day. I keep this picture on my bathroom counter. It's an odd place, but it's a place that allows me to see them every day. I remember every day what they've done for me.

I remember every day who I want to be.

I'll see you both soon.

grandma and grandpa.jpg