Grandpa that never was

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I’m not mourning a grandfather l lost I’m mourning the grandfather l never had.

How is it possible that I am saddened by the death of someone I have never met, someone whom I only remember from a picture which displayed only the left portion of his face.

Shouldn’t l be mad that he never made any attempt to communicate while he still had his good health…or maybe he did and no one told me

It’s strange mourning someone you never met.

I find myself thinking about the time mum talked about how hard she had struggled to forgive him. Forgive him for what? No one ever told me why l grew up without a grandfather or more so who he was. So its a bit hard to share in mums sentiments of forgiveness when l don’t even know what’s to forgive.

To me the memories l have are of make believe. The make believe stories, the make believe grandfatherly love make believe fights, make believe possessive behaviour, make believe life advice. I like to think l was lucky because l got to choose, in my imagination, the type of grandfather l wanted.

I feel for mum because she is torn. She lost the father she fought so hard to forgive but she lost a father nonetheless

So i am not sad that he died, he had suffered enough, l am sad because of the time lost, memories that could have been made. I am sad because l get to meet my grandfather in a coffin..

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