Reliving the Past

Do you ever have those moments when you see something happening to someone else and can relate to that exact moment so well, it's almost like you're physically reliving it?  

I was just watching an episode of Gossip Girl (no judgement, please) and it's the end of an episode where Cece Rhodes has a stroke pre-surgery and the doctor comes out to tell the family there's nothing left to do but say good-bye.  As Serena and Lily are each holding one of her hands, her eyes close and she dies.  As I watched it, it wasn't just my usual "this is so sad" type of tears streaming down my face, I was actually full out crying because I could relate and could feel it happening as though I were in the room.  In 2006, I was sitting beside my grandfather at a hospice, holding his hand.  He'd been sick for awhile and this was the first chance I had made the effort to see him (and only really because my parents told me it was almost time and I needed to go).  He'd gotten remarried in 2000 and had had a small, intimate gathering in front of his children and best friend, but none of the grand-children.  I remember being so broken-hearted about it and I resented him for the last 6 years of his life because of it.  While I was visiting with him that day, my cousin was there as well.  She was reading and I was feeding Papa water every once in awhile.  As I sat there, watching him and holding his wrinkly, old hand, a tear slowly made its way down his face.  His last breath left his chest and I remember just staring in disbelief.  "I think he's dead.  I think he's dead!", I called out to my cousin.  Everything after that is a bit of a blur.  I think I made my way into the hall to shout for help, I remember hysterically calling my mother and other family members eventually arriving... 

I know I've talked to a few people about being there that day... but I don't think I've ever disclosed the part about my resentment and the guilt that ate at me for years afterwards.  It still eats at me sometimes.  I cry about it every once in awhile.  Part of the reason I went back to school for Sociology was for him; he'd been a Professor of it.  I think deep down it was a partial apology for being a bit of a fucking bitch the last few years of his life.  So, there it is... One of my deep, dark secrets and possibly one of my biggest regrets.  I don't have very many of the latter, but I wish I'd been a better grand-daughter those last six years...

It's silly that it's Gossip Girl that brought this out of me, but I am thankful to finally be able to share it and get it off my chest, even if it's just in internet world.  I've always wanted someone to forgive me for this, but I think it's time I just do it myself.

Thanks, as always, readers.
Love,
Meaghan