This morning, I went shopping for glasses. For the first time in at least 15 years, I am going to have some glasses for work. As I was thinking about this last night, I was pondering how someone’s glasses seem to hold a lot of their essence. I’m not sure why, but I feel that way.

That’s why I wanted my grandpa’s and Ian’s glasses. That’s why they’re in the shadow boxes that serve as my little memorial to each of them.

Also last night, I was thinking about my grandpa. I thought about his personality, and how there seemed to be very few THINGS that he really connected with. I remembered his death, and how gruesome it was. How torturous. I cried because I DO miss him, despite not having thought about it for a year. Today, it occurred to me that I’ve been so overwhelmed by mourning Ian, I seem to have left the mourning for my grandpa┬ábehind. Maybe I’m coming to a place where there’s room for both. I certainly missed them both last night.

I made another possibly coincidental, but maybe not, connection last night. My grandpa crashed his truck on Mother’s Day. I knew that. What I finally put together was that his mother had died while he was in Korea, fighting… and he couldn’t come home to her. He never got to say goodbye, and he never really got over that. They had such a close relationship, what popped into my head was, maybe he decided to go to her for Mother’s Day.

If that’s what happened, I hope he found her. I hope he’s doing well. I hope he can feel the love I have for him. I hope they both can.

Written 3/14/15

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