13

Thirteen years ago today, my grampa died. He had cancer, I'll never forget. I lived with him, and my gramma at the time, in the home where they raised their family, in my hometown. I didn't have a relationship with either of my parents at the time, I was a senior in high school, ready to graduate in a month. I was a full blown addict by this time. 

I will never forget what happened that morning. I will never forget the look on my gramma's face. I will never forget feeling like I let time slip away, like I didn't take the time to say my goodbyes, like I could have been there with him more. 

I will also never forget that he was my hero, he loved me and was gentle with me, his stories or the things he loved. The way his shop smelled and the ham radio he built from bits with his own hands. I will never forget his laugh, his eyes, his jokes. Or the way he was respected and admired. He was a good man. Truly.

I could go on forever but what I really want to say is this....I am so glad to be honoring his life completely sober today. I can't remember ever spending this day 100% sober. It is painful, the memories are vivid, but goddammit, he deserves it and so do I. 

The last several years this day has often come and gone without me even noticing what day it was consciously. Because I was fucked up. Never again. I already called my gramma, dad and aunt today. Because it's a day of family, he held us together. Now, we have to hold each other. Because it's important.

I will never forget.