A Little Cry is Good Every Now and Then...Right?

   Yesterday would have been my grandfather's 80^th birthday.  I usually don’t let these things get to me, but sometimes the pain creeps up.  I always feel so guilty for missing his last birthday, which was his 75^th.  I had to work that night at my job; it had only been my first week).  I never would have thought he might not have a next one.

   A little background:  My grandfather, Don Baciocco, was taken from us suddenly while driving on a remote mountainous road in Northern California during winter.  The car slid of the road and while the other three passengers were shaken, my grandfather was killed instantly.  At least I hope it was instant.  I was very close with him as well as my grandmother. 

   After my parents were divorced, I moved into their house with my mother and my brother.  After we finally relocated to Sparks, I spent the next year and a half commuting to my high school in South Reno.  Since I had an office campus in the afternoon every other day, I would spend a few hours at their house before I had to go to my job as a nanny (I picked the two girls up from their elementary school).  We had a routine, my grandpa would have cheese and crackers everyday at 2:00 and when I was visiting my grandma would ask me to take them to him in his den.  If he was sitting on the couch watching TV in the living room, then I would usually take a little nap with my head on his lap.

   Even when I was a little girl, I would spend a lot of time at my grandparents’ house in California.  My grandma taught me how to iron with his cloth handkerchiefs, he would use Italian words that his grandparents taught him and I always enjoyed hearing him, even if it was only one word here and there.  The jokes he used to make about pulling out our teeth and making fun of my grandma by taking her literally always brought smiles and laughter to my life.

   He even planned a trip to take me to Hawaii for my first college spring break.  Sadly, he never made it and my good friend Ashley came with me.  It was a wonderful and sad trip at the same time.  I love Ashley and I had so much fun with her.  We did things together that I wouldn’t have wanted to do alone, like snorkeling.  But I would have given anything, even never going to Hawaii, if I could have just had him a little bit longer.  That last Christmas with him, he bought me a really nice snorkel and fins and then told me about the trip.  I got some of my best Christmas presents from him: my first pair of diamond earrings and a beautiful porcelain doll.  I complained so much about not having a doll when all of the other women had one.  My grandpa walked in to an antique store all by himself and found a doll with beautiful brown (albeit curly) hair and found a doll.  Guess what her name was?  It was LISA! Can you believe it?  She even had a dog with her and he knew how much I loved dogs.  It was probably the best Christmas present I had ever gotten.  Even better than my Coach purse!

Here’s a picture of her:

   My grandparents asked me to house sit for them while they were on a trip to Canada with their friends from Australia.  I didn’t get to their house in time to wish them a goodbye, but I knew I would see them when they got home.  It was the weekend before my second semester at the University and I had just popped in a bag of popcorn to watch some TV before I had to go to work as a hostess. 

Then the phone rang…

   It was my grandma asking me to cal AAA.  After a few minutes it sounded like they needed something more than AAA and by then my grandma wasn’t responding to anything I was saying.  Then she asked my grandpa multiple times to wake up.  She started crying and so did I.  The next week was tumultuous and very tiring.

   Since then I find some things to be nostalgic and I can fondly remember the most important man in my life.  Then sometimes it’s hard to think about the one man who I knew would never let me down.  I wish my father could be that person, but that’s another story. 

   I miss my grandfather, but I try to remember the happy times.  But there are the moments when I miss him terribly and tears start to fall.  And it’s kind of funny that when I’m upset about other things that have absolutely nothing to do with him, my thoughts always return to him and how much I wish he was here because he could always make me feel better.

   My mom and I were looking through the safe today for some documents for my brother and some of the important things that belonged to my grandfather are in there.  There’s a box with some of his old cufflinks in there and I found a small ring with his initials, which must have been from when he was a child.  I slipped it on my left pinky and it fit perfectly.  I asked my mom if I could keep it and she said that as long as I’m careful not to lose it, I could.  This made me so happy for two reasons: 1. I have been looking for another ring to wear on my pinky (kind of silly I know) and 2. Anything that brings me closer to my grandpa is always sought after. 

Here’s a picture of the ring:

It has his initials D.B.

   This may sound kind of weird, but he used to sleep with these rubber pillows and I love them!  I can’t remember if he had given me one or not, but after he died I ended up with two.  The months after he passed, I could smell the pillows and they would smell just like him.  With time the smell has disappeared, but every once in a while, for a brief second, I can smell him again.

   At least when I cry I know it's because I havent't forgotten him.  Hopefully I will never cry because I can't remember him.