The Love In My Life

I've learned that in my family it is very hard to hold onto men.

My mom has fallen in and out of love many times as well as my Grandma. My Grandma went through three different marriages before she found the right one, my Grandpa.

My Grandpa is the most important, most inspiring, most influential person I know. He was my only father-figure growing up in my life, still is in fact. My stepdad has done a lot for me, but there's a lot that he shouldn't have done as well. My Grandpa still talks to me like I'm just four years old, but it makes me smile everytime.

When I was little, I would love to sit on his lap and eat his dinner. I always thought he was a very hungry guy to eat more than two plates, but now I realize that I ate a lot of it myself. But my favorite thing to do, would be to wait for him to get home. I would hide behind the couch or the door and wait for him to get settled in his chair, and I would jump and yell, BOO! He'd get so scared he'd get all the way out of his chair... and say, "What is a monster doing behind my chair!?" I also now know that he knew I was there the whole time.

My Grandpa would also do the monster thing with his shaving cream. He'd start to shave in the bathroom, and I'd sit staring at cartoons, but he would come in and go, "RAAAAWR!! I'M GONNA GET YOU!" And I'd run screaming across the house.

My first time ever to get drunk was with him. I made the mistake of sitting my glass of Diet Coke next to his Crown and Coke. I came inside from climbing the apple tree, and was thirstier than heck. I chugged the thing down, and seconds later I was lying on the floor, dizzy. He came in, noticed the empty glass, and just laughed.

I also got to watch my first porn because of him. Not his fault. I got tired of cartoons and found the tape under his bed. I popped it in and started watching it. Grandma finally came in and freaked. Grandpa got in trouble for that one! Luckily, I don't remember any of it. My Grandma loves to tell the story to me, it still gets a kick out of her.

My favorite memory though, was finding an old guitar packed way in the back of his closet. I dragged that sucker out. It was as big as an elephant! At least that's what he said when I dropped it on the floor next to him. He opened the case, to reveal an old Alvarez, with only 4 strings attached to it. The next weekend I came over to find two new replacements strings sitting on the table. I watched my Grandpa put them on and tune it. He sang old songs that, he told me, he used to play in the war. I was amazed by it. When my Grandpa got up to smoke a ciggarette, I snuck around the table and picked up the guitar. And strummed it a little bit. He came back in the living room to see me trying how to place my fingers. I got embarassed and sat it down. I didn't pick up a guitar again till maybe ten years later. But every once in awhile, he would pull it out and play for me.

It's been awhile since I've heard him play. That guitar has been packed away for maybe ten years since. At the age of 63 my Grandpa looks like he has no age. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles in his skin, the lack of his smile. My grandparents don't have much nowadays. They've worked their whole lives, and have only a dinky little apartment with yellow walls to show for it.

Smoking has gotten the best of them. I can tell that my Grandpa doesn't have much longer. I've heard him mention his doctor visits to his brother. But my neither my Grandma nor my Mom have any clue of them. It kills me to see him hurt, I don't know where, or how much he's hurting, but I can see it. These past couple weeks, I've started taking guitar lessons. They go every Tuesday at 7 o'Clock before I would pick up my Grandma from work and take her home. I'd get her home, and my Grandpa would get home before I would leave. We've started playing guitar together, and I love that I finally get to do it with him and keep up. He teaches me things, and I show him what I know already. He's impressed with just how much I've taught myself, and he wants me to get better. Unfortunetly, I can't afford the lessons anymore. But I'm still teaching myself, and I still play with him when I can.

Every night I leave their apartment, I tear up. He's been smoking since he was 13, my Grandma the same. And I can't do anything but just watch. Both of them are falling apart, my Grandpa hurts more each day. I told my Grandma just last week that when I get married, I want Grandpa to walk me down the aisle. My stepdad might get a little pissed, but my Grandpa has never been able to do it. And whether I get married first or my mom does, I want him to be there. He deserves it.

My Grandpa's habits have caused more worry for me though. Kyle, my boyfriend, is a smoker. He used to smoke almost two packs a day, he told me. He's now down to having 4 last a whole week. I'm impressed with his improvement, but I want him to quit completely. He uses his A.D.D. as an excuse. I don't even believe in ADD. ADD is just a form of curiosity. He says the ciggarettes calm him down. I tell him that they are just hyping up his lungs. He's knows the damage himself, his Grandpa is sick too. Constantly in and out of the hopsital, and Kyle himself has to go and talk to him about it. I tell Kyle that we both know the end damage, so why does he continue to drag it on? I don't want to change him, I just want to keep him around. Remember? It's hard to hold onto men in my family. Besides my Grandpa, he's the most important, most inspiring, most influential person I know. I love him and it's killing me knowing his future.

There so many things to worry about in life, so why put it in fast forward? My Grandpa eyes are lost in his past, I've heard him argue with my Grandma about how "things could be different if..." Health plays a major role in that if.