Yesterday was the third anniversary of his death. Everyone always seems to forget the date he died. Not me, never. It still vividly plays in my mind almost every day. Getting ready for school. Hearing the phone ring and feeling my body stop because I knew something was wrong. Seeing my dad, one of the strongest people I know, sob as we wrapped our arms around each other. “I have to go see him,” my dad got in the car and went to the nursing home to stare at his lifeless body. I desperately wanted to go too but I knew that I needed to keep the living memory of him in my mind as long as I could. And, now I can’t remember the last thing I said to him or whenever the last time I saw him before he died. 

It’s not like we had the closest of relationships when he was living, he wasn’t fully cognitive while I was growing up due to a stroke. This being said, I believe our relationship got stronger the moment he passed. It’s weird to hold onto something so strongly when they are in another world completely.

My grandpa was the first closest person to me to die. I had never participated in every event of a funeral before then. I remember seeing his open coffin and not grasping the fact that I would never talk to him again, that I would never hear his coughing attack, that I would never see him stuff a Friday fish fry into both cheeks of his mouth ever again. He looked not himself. He wasn’t the one I sat next to at Easter. Before the wake started on Friday, my dad played a slideshow of pictures of his life. That was the first time I ever hyperventilated. I ran to the bathroom, running into my cousin on the way in. I couldn’t look at her, I felt ashamed for not cherishing every moment with him, for not developing a close relationship. Barbra Streisand’s “The Way We Were” and Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” played in the background of the slideshow and to this day if I hear even one note of either of those two songs I instantly start tearing up.

Friday was May 1st. Friday in Buffalo, by the decree of Mayor Byron Brown, is Jack Maurer day. A day of celebration. And that’s exactly what I do every year, I celebrate his life.

I was supposed to be a Pall Bearer at his funeral. All the cousins were. I backed out quicker than I could. I wouldn’t be able to summon the strength to essentially carry him to heaven. I do not regret my decision because I was able to free my spot to someone that would be honored to carry his casket. I do however, believe that maybe that is the reason why I still find it so hard to cope with his passing even all these years later.

What keeps me in peace, now, is the fact that he is finally able to see everybody that he had been missing in this world. He was the last survivor of his immediate family. Parents, brothers, cousins, wife, all gone. Recently, at a relatively close family member’s funeral someone said that grandpa had lost his best friend the day he lost grandma. I never met grandma but I can pretty much sum her up with the word spectacular. I have many of her prized possessions in my room, including: poems, jewelry, a day by day diary. From these and the stories my dad tells I was able to develop a relationship even though I never could in physical form. I am glad that grandpa can finally be with his best friend again. To continue right on where they left off thirty years ago. 

On account of my grandpa the Maurer family had a revival. An unfortunate event led us to plan a reunion to reunite the entire family in one place. It was one of the best weeks of my life. It’s our duty to have one every five years with everyone attending. I know that grandpa and grandma attend these, too. They look down and I hope they are proud. Proud of the people that we have all become, proud that we have come back as a stronger family, proud that just because they have left us doesn’t mean we will fall apart.

All that is left to say, all that I really can continue to say, is I love you and i’ll visit you soon. I’ll bring flowers and hedge clippers this time. I’ll try not to cry but we both know that is a promise I can not keep. I’ll be alone so don’t be afraid to walk by me. Talk to me if you can.

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