"All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
If you've got no one to tell them to..."
I need to confess something. I need to let it out already because it's eating me from the inside and I can't take it anymore. I need to put it down in words, because there's no one I can really tell this to since there aren't a lot of people that care about this things, while my mom will just be sad if she hears it from me. So here I am - I will put it down today and feel better for a little while, alright?
Like any other kid on this planet, I too had a pair of grandparents. They were mine and I was theirs, until they no longer were a pair. Last winter, one day before New Year's Eve, my grandpa died alone in his house, just across the courtyard of our place. He was so close and yet I didn't even stopped by his place to sing him a Christmas carol or to say 'Merry Christmas!'. He died all alone, like a stray dog and the next time I saw him, he was nicely shaved, wearing a black suit and laying lifeless in a coffin for his own funeral...
My grandpa... he was a nice man. And right now, right now I can't even remember him that well, despite him being around for 18 years.
But what I am most sorry for is that I never got to know his side of the story, his life story. I learned from grandma that he was one of the rich men in the village where they were both born and where they lived before moving to my current city, and that he chose her to be his wife, despite his mother telling him that she wasn't worthy of him.
I never got to know what story hid behind the wrinkles from his face, what worries troubled him, what were his hobbies, what he liked to do. He liked reading just as much as I do, that I know. And staying up late - I guess I'm taking after him with this one... But otherwise, I don't know anything else. And I can't go ask anything now. It's way too late. 'Cause all that remained of his is a cross in the graveyard and some photos thrown in an album...
My grandpa was a good man. He would bring me cherries from his garden and he would share his food with me if I happened to stop by while he was eating. He was a good man that never said 'no' to me. And how did I repay him? What happiness did I brought to him when he died all alone without a person to visit his house for Christmas?!
One thing I learned from him during the many nonsense talks we had: he wanted to be buried in his hometown, next to his father, on this beautiful hill. And that much I couldn't do for him even though I foolishly promised him that I would do it even if I had to fly him with a helicopter till there... That much he wished for himself and I am unable of fulfilling.
And I miss him. I miss him so much that I can't even remember him without crying. Hell, I'm crying like a fool as I'm writing this. I miss him and I'm scared that I'm slowly forgetting him, that he's slowly disappearing from my mind and that there will come a day when I won't be able to remember how he looked like. 'Cause right now, from all 18 years while we've been together, all I can remember is the way he used to return from his garden in the summer, wearing his straw hat with a ripped tank top, white shorts and flip-flops, stepping slowly because of his back ache. That's all I can remember of him at this point...
My grandpa was a good man. And I hope from the bottom of my heart that his body no longer aches, that his vision is better and that he has a whole library all to himself wherever he is right now. I don't deserve him to stay by my side to watch over the foolish me, so I hope he got to a nicer place, where there is no memory of the bad me. 'Cause I'd like to know him happy with his long gone from this world siblings and parents...
Do you hear me, dear God? Please, keep him happy wherever he is right now...
I needed to confess this because lately I felt like my heart was going to burst. I needed to confess this because I can't tell it to anyone else...
"You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's covering the words that won't come out
All of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess..."