So, if anyone's realized / noticed as to why I've been really ... off, (some do, some don't) it's well, hard to explain.

Last Thursday my Grandfather died due to kidney complications. (I didn't learn until 8 hours ago at his wake, as to what lead to his death) but he lived a long 86 year old life. Though I'm troubled and worried about how I should really feel. I mean, I'm sad, I'm really broken up, but I'm not sure if it's just me or not, but I feel as if I should be feeling even worse than I already am. When I heard about it, I lit a small candle and put it on a bottle cap, and just ... watched it. I had to keep studying though, as I had a math final the next day. And even then I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Recanting all the memories I had with him as I grew up, the stories I don't even remember, now lost forever. And hell, I didn't even know half of the things that were told to me! I mean, apparently I was his "favorite" (Out of three great grandkids, 3 grandkids, etc.) Which is .. really weird, since I've never even MET any of them! Heck, when I was a young kid, I was stupid apparently and I ran across the road for no good reason.( Quote my father: I couldn't even move in time, but he was already over there and snatched you up and away from there before I could even react.) Yeah, my dad repeated himself a bit there. Ol' Grandpa Charlie, he even got me liking the taste of Okra, and collared greens. (He was raised in Tennesee.) And hell, I learned even MORE from the wake.

He served for 7 years, and fought in WWII in the German and French fronts. And afterwards became a US Army Ranger, before 'retiring,' (though now that I think about it, I think he WAS a Ranger during his tour) and worked for 45 years as a safety materials supervisor for a department store. (J.C. Penny I think?) All I could remember was just laying out on his stoop, as he lived in one of those small-ish houses in New York. ... I really don't even know where to begin. I shed tears, I sobbed, but ... it's like it's not enough. Hell, three weeks ago, I wanted to call him and ask for the recipe for his Okra and collared green stuff, it was really good. Though now as I'm typing this, I think I realized as to why I really do care about him more than I should, other than the "favortism" thing, unlike my parents, he actually said, that, "I was a good boy." and even when my parents would tell him how much of a failure I was as I grew up, he was steadfast, and just said I needed a little direction and that I'd make them all proud someday. ... ha.... ... thanks Gramps. Thanks for the belief that I could make something out of myself.

I think if anything, it's just the guilt of "i could have done more! I could have talked to him more!" heh... and the last thing I was helping talk to him about was that he was asking how to get a sim from The Sims 2, to do something. Oh yeah, he liked flea markets, small PC games, crosswords and all that. ... what an interesting man. The stories he's told and may never tell again, lost forever. He'll live on in my heart, and that's all I can say about that.

P.S. Link of the day is "Things I hate." ... weird.