The man that became a grandpa to me
Friday, Feb. 15, 2019 - 9:53 pm.

I had an entry mapped out in my mind to write this evening. Then I was in the living room, beginning my exercise routine, when Andrew came down the stairs in tears. He was crying and I knew someone had died. His grandfather. 

His grandfather was 101 years old. I was beginning to think we'd actually see him again once we returned to Chile later this year. Despite his age, it was still shocking to learn he'd passed away. I suppose that in my head I'd thought we'd hear first that his condition had worsened, and we'd have a few days to prepare. Instead, Andrew got a brief message from one of the grandfather's carer, his niece, saying he'd passed away today and the funeral was tomorrow, and that was it. 

Andrew's grandparents welcomed me with open arms and into their home. They were always very sweet to me. I didn't grow up with my own grandparents, so it felt nice to have that, a grandmother who cooks warm meals on winter days, and a grandfather who tells jokes and stories from when he was a fireman or a union leader. Then, Andrew's grandmother passed away in 2013 (I think). After a marriage filled with good spirits and entertaining guests, the granddad remained lucid, but unable to care for himself and barely able to move around the house. His years alone were, I'm afraid to say, joyless.

Andrew's grandparents left everything in their will to Andrew's older brother, but then he passed away in 2014. The grandparents' carers, two of his nieces (one of them in her 80s!), took over all his affairs since his wife died, so it's likely they'll keep everything, the house and all. Andrew and I had lunch with him every Sunday until we moved to the UK, but Andrew does not care for family drama and tried to stay away, which I think it's a sensible decision, even if there's injustice involved. Some things with sentimental value will be unfortunately lost to these nieces, such as photographs from the last century, but relatives can get so vicious over inheritance. 

I've been with Andrew for eight years, and over that time he's lost the three family members that were closest to his heart, his grandparents and his brother. Three times he's had to be the one to give the news to his parents, Jesus Christ (the nieces pushed Andrew's parents away, so Andrew had to be the one to call and tell them, never mind that he's an ocean away). Two of those times, the grandfather was the receiver of the bad news, and I am surprised that he stuck around for so long after losing his partner of seven decades and his beloved grandson. 

I forget that Andrew's grandparents are (were) not biological family. His grandparents didn't have any children, they took in Andrew's mom when she was a teenager. It's not that I forget, really, it's more than this piece of information ends up being irrelevant. They're family and that is all. 

So that's it, the man who was very much a grandpa to me passed away today. I truly hope he's been reunited with the love of his life. They both became my family, too. 



- I see no end to this stupid thesis. It's written, but there are so many minor details to correct, and format guidelines to take care of. I'm only beginning the (hopefully) last round of corrections before submitting it, but ugh. I want to have mental energy to focus on other things. 

- My friend A is still staying with us. She had her PhD exam yesterday, she's a doctor now! She's very easygoing, a good friend, of course; she helps with the dishes, buys groceries, made us lunch once, and we actually see each other very little. Yet I still find myself irrationally bothered by having to share living space with someone other than my partner. I should refrain from complaining, though. Lots of people have helped us Andrew and I out one way or another, so the least we can do is pay it forward. A said that we provided her with a nice environment that helped her deal better with her exam, so that's nice. 

- I suppose what bothers me the most of having a guest is that I don't have a desk at the moment. I don't have a room of my own to write and draw and all that, so even if the daily thesis work leaves me some energy, I don't have a place of my own to go to. I gave my desk to Andrew, because his is in the guest room where A is staying. He's a gamer, so here I am, writing on the couch. Just one more week to go. 

- Andrew and I are going to Lincoln tomorrow! I've been looking forward to this trip for a while. Not because of the destination itself, but because he and I haven't been out for a while. Like, to have fun. We haven't gone out much these months, due to thesis obligations and efforts to save some money. 

- Speaking of saving money, or rather, not: Andrew convinced me to go to a drawing course I'd found in the city. He says my face lights up with these things and I should seize the opportunity. It's just three Saturdays in March, for two hours, but check this out: I've been drawing regularly (albeit poorly) since 1994 when my Simeon cartoons came to life, and this will be the FIRST time in my life that I'll attend any form of training. 

I'm sad, sleepy and I have a big day ahead tomorrow. Bye.  

prev / next