My world has suffered a loss this day. My grandfather, Christopher Saucedo, has left this realm to join a higher one. My uncle Andrew contacted me to let me know and posted on his FB:
Grandpa Chris, as we called him, suffered from cancer these past few years, and it is a blessing that he left us so peacefully.
I believe in celebrating life instead of mourning death, but right now it's difficult. As it should be. Grief fills my being to know that no more will I exchange an email, or get a Christmas card, or have a long awaited meet up to look forward to. However . . . I want to stay true to my beliefs, so this blog entry will be a celebration of what was.
I didn't get to see my grandfather much. He served long and faithfully in the United States Army and for much of my life was stationed in Germany. I was eleven or twelve years old before I met him. We took a long 30 hour drive to California to do so, and not only got to see him at long last, but it was an opportunity to meet many other Saucedos, and in most cases, the only time I got to do so.
But I knew Grandpa Chris, even before I met him. Every year on Christmas and birthdays there would be a card. Sometimes there would be a package of German candies to share with my brother, or something pretty. I own a little group of bear figurines depicting different cultures, some crystal bunnies and horses, and several other small items sent to me over the years. I believe the bears are the oldest, I received them when I was very little. Prior to the California reunion I began to exchange e-mails with my grandfather, and was very very excited to tell him we would be making the long drive to come. I still remember that excitement, the anticipation of an adventure to Redlands, CA. It remains to this day the only trip I've taken out of state.
And my expectations were met and then some. Full of laughter and exciting stories, I was quite certain my Grandpa Chris was the coolest person alive. Though we were only there a couple of days, the tales he told and the fun we had stay with me.
It would be some years before I saw him again. I'm not certain if there was a visit between that one and the next that I remember. There may not have been, since I don't recall any.
This visit came in 2004, and my uncle Andrew came along as well. I was tickled pink to hear they were coming, and when I arrived home from school, my boyfriend Steven (now husband) in tow, it was very exciting! We went out to dinner, poor Steven scared out of his wits by the stories of my military grandfather who could run marathons without breaking a sweat and took bites out of frogs. (A great story I'll write out someday!)
I remember clearly Grandpa Chris teasing Steven, and then telling Steven that he teased people he liked. It was really a shining moment, to get approval from such a great man. I think Grandpa Chris saw the future!
He returned not long after that to be present at my graduation. To this day I am honored that he took the time and came all that way to see me on such an important day. I remember him waiting by the gate where all of us students walked through to get to our seats and his big grin bolstering my confidence and removing my nervousness about the whole ceremony.
My brother, myself, and Grandpa Chris at my graduation
Sadly, another visit would not come again until early this year. Grandpa Chris had retired and moved back to the States at long last and was fighting cancer. He and his wife had decided to go on a cruise and would be in Houston for one night.
It was January, in the middle of the most horrible cold snap. Snow and ice even. Despite obstacles galore (All of our pipes were frozen solid, we had no water, our car had frozen up and ultimately would prove to be unsaveable, funds were tight) we persevered and drove the hour and a half to Houston on slick roads to spend a few precious hours with him.
They were well worth it. We were adults, speaking as adults, a new level in our relationship. He praised our indomitable will to triumph over adversity and shared news of the family. We begged him to tell the Frog story again and he obliged, much to our delight. One day soon I will share that story with you all, because it deserves to be recorded for all time.
Too soon we had to return home, with promises that we would get together again soon. E-mails were shared over this last year. He was always interested in the farm, asked about our animals, shared in Apple's birth and the births of baby goats. We made plans for him to see our home, meet Apple, just as soon as he felt well enough to travel and visit family scattered across the country.
But perhaps now he can see all even though we didn't quite make it to those plans.
Many people know that family can be a touchy subject for me. I am estranged from most of my family. My mother's side is full of toxic people I do not allow into my life. My father's side is fragmented and mixed. I have only met most of the Saucedos once, and some not at all. A few I keep in vague touch with, through Facebook mostly. They are practically strangers to me. My mother calls occasionally, but my father I have not spoken with in nearly a year now, the last exchange a brief e-mail.
But no matter how far away someone might be, or how unfamiliar, there are threads linking all of us together, and to feel one of those threads sever is painful.
I've come to the end of my thoughts now and words are coming harder now, as I begin to feel at a loss. What more can be said?
Grieve what is lost, but celebrate what was.
It was January, in the middle of the most horrible cold snap. Snow and ice even. Despite obstacles galore (All of our pipes were frozen solid, we had no water, our car had frozen up and ultimately would prove to be unsaveable, funds were tight) we persevered and drove the hour and a half to Houston on slick roads to spend a few precious hours with him.
They were well worth it. We were adults, speaking as adults, a new level in our relationship. He praised our indomitable will to triumph over adversity and shared news of the family. We begged him to tell the Frog story again and he obliged, much to our delight. One day soon I will share that story with you all, because it deserves to be recorded for all time.
Too soon we had to return home, with promises that we would get together again soon. E-mails were shared over this last year. He was always interested in the farm, asked about our animals, shared in Apple's birth and the births of baby goats. We made plans for him to see our home, meet Apple, just as soon as he felt well enough to travel and visit family scattered across the country.
But perhaps now he can see all even though we didn't quite make it to those plans.
Many people know that family can be a touchy subject for me. I am estranged from most of my family. My mother's side is full of toxic people I do not allow into my life. My father's side is fragmented and mixed. I have only met most of the Saucedos once, and some not at all. A few I keep in vague touch with, through Facebook mostly. They are practically strangers to me. My mother calls occasionally, but my father I have not spoken with in nearly a year now, the last exchange a brief e-mail.
But no matter how far away someone might be, or how unfamiliar, there are threads linking all of us together, and to feel one of those threads sever is painful.
I've come to the end of my thoughts now and words are coming harder now, as I begin to feel at a loss. What more can be said?
Grieve what is lost, but celebrate what was.
