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Love. Death. Celebrating life.

This post was originally written on June 5, 2014 at 9:05pm. One day after my other grandpa passed away. It was my way of saying goodbye and finding closure. It has been 4 years since…

    Yesterday my grandpa passed away. I don’t want you to pity me and tell me how sorry you are. I want you to celebrate his life and acknowledge of his past existence (although he’ll never really leave my heart).

I would firstly like to say that I am not in denial. I perfectly understand what has happened. I just cannot believe it. I am just sad, because in my mind I really thought my family and the ones that I love would never die. In a way I really thought they were immortal. At some point, I might have given thought on how or when I would die, but I have never given thought on my family passing away. It really was something I never thought would happen. Thus, yesterday’s event really struck me and I didn’t (and still don’t) know how to react, what I should say or do… and this really hurts ME, because it’s like if I don’t sorrow, I don’t miss him. Which is totally not true and we all know it. But still, I thought an event like this would be the end of me. And yet, here I am, after this I am thinking even more of the “alive” and celebrating life! I can’t say that my grandpa would want me to be like this (very sad, not wanting to move on), but I SUPPOSE this is what he would like me to do – be happy and love him forever, in my heart. Because there are things that you just can’t change, but you can do stuff on the first days of the rest of your lives (both yours and the ones’ you love). Like once again reminding everyone how much you love them.

I am really sad and regret that I haven’t talked to grandpa in the last 2 weeks or so. But what I am happy about, and what makes it a bit easier I guess, is that the last time we talked, I told him that I missed him and how much I loved him. At least he died knowing that. And this is something I won’t regret for the rest of my days.

Actually you know what? My grandpa passed away while smoking a cigarette on the balcony. Which was kinda his favorite THING to do in his favorite PLACE: smoking on the front balcony, while looking at the birds, the “blue” mountains of Sliven and the people passing by… what more could a person in his last minutes want?

To tell you the truth, my grandpa, whose name was Angel by the way, was never really your typical hero or some so what remarkable person. He was a simple man with enough knowledge to separate right from wrong and give you some advice from time to time. He had a heart full of love (for me) and not much else besides that, in the last few years that is. Could be because he didn’t understand the things I did or like, but he just stood there watching me and just being happy that I was around him. He could tell me his thoughts from time to time, and always asked me what my thoughts were on things. I really can’t tell you that he was the best of all people, but he really did have a big heart and loved me endlessly. And his loved ones, too. For example, even when he fought with grandma, he couldn’t stop loving her. And even thought he would try to hide it, he couldn’t and would still care for her. They were such a cute old couple together.

I really cannot continue writing anymore, because I feel empty. And the more I think about it, the more I start imagining stuff I really cannot afford imagining right now. As my mom says, I really should remember my grandpa with a smile and with his pretty blue eyes (that I never got to own).

Just one more thing, is it gonna be very selfish of me to ask grandma for grandpa’s books? I just… want to have a piece of him, a piece of his world near me…

Rest in peace,

I will love you as always,



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