12 August 2009

Sometimes I wish I'd have sat down more and just listened to what they had to say. Listened to their stories of growing up during WWII and what it was like to see the world then. I wish I could listen to how they felt after all of their children lived in a different country, and how they coped with life's problems over the years. I wish I could sit and ask them what their favorite memory was of their birthday, or hear my Grandma talk about her mother getting her and her sister up and dressed to watch a thunder storm in the middle of the night, just in case they would need to go somewhere safe. I wish I could listen to them laugh at each other's jokes, or hear my Grandfather's soft voice as he walked down to the basement to get the strawberry preserves out of the fridge. I wish I could hear them talk about their old dates, or say "eh?" at the end of a sentence. I would give alot to go to A&W again for a burger and root beer with them or sit in their living room and listen to stories about the Canadian prime minister from Grandpa. I wish I could look at the photographs of old family members that they missed as much as I miss them now. I wish I could hear the stories firsthand again of how the house my Grandfather was raised in burnt down after they were married. I want to see that smirk on my Grandma's face before she said something funny, or that wide toothy grin Grandpa gave her. I wish I could hear them tell them they loved us with tears in their eyes as we drove off again, most likely not to see them again for another year. I wish I could've stayed in the room longer in that cold hospital where Grandma laid dying and held her hand longer than I had.  I wish I could sit on the couch with Grandpa again as he looked at a young picture of Grandma after she died, crying as he told me what a beautiful women she had been. I wish I had overcome my fear of hearing about people dying and truly showed that I cared when he became sick. I wish I hadn't masked my concern with apathy when he began to grow weaker,  And I wish I had talked to him one last time before he died. . . Someday I will. 

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