I really like having this blog, because I don’t get a lot of time to process my childhood as a parent now. And as I get older, it seems like I find myself more and more wanting to process my childhood. Because it’s the tragedy of existence, that we only age one way and that we find that out only after our childhood is gone.
Two summers ago in July we had a family meeting for my grandfather’s passing. And I’ve wrote here about the mixed feelings I’ve had going to south Dakota. It’s not my favourite place, but I’ve made a couple returning trips in the past couple of years. This year a bunch of us came back to my hometown to inter my grandfather next to my grandmother. It was really sad. My uncle who is a pastor over in Japan did the ceremony and he even asked me to speak! But my feelings got a hold of me and I couldn’t. and I think at one point, I would have been embarrassed to cry in front of everybody. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become adapt at giving less fucks about that kinda of stuff. I think growing up feelings were always pushed down. And Now as I raise my own kiddo I realize that this approach is not healthy, so I’m in therapy and getting better about processing my feelings.
And there were several bitter sett moment that July. One of them occurred in that same evening, after the ceremony. All of us were gathered in his back porch/yard. And let me tell you about his house, it’s a two-story brick house with a huge back and front yard. So all of us together, aunts and uncles from around the world and their kiddos and their kiddos’ significant others too! And we were all chilling eating really bad papa johns pizza. And I took a moment that evening to realize that this may never happen again. We may never all be at Grandpa’s house again. I savored that moment and then I let it go.
The family didn’t end up selling his house. Actually what happened is that my uncle Paul bought it a decade ago. It worked really well because Grandpa didn’t have a lot of cash for retirement, and he lived a long time too! So by Paul buying his house, Grandpa could still live in his home until the end. But the bitter part of that, is after his death, Paul took ownership. Now I get it. He owns the house and he can do with it as he wants. But something deep down in my gut didn’t kike the changes he was making. But dear reader, from a rational approach, it was required.
There were parts of the house that hadn’t been cleaned very well. And Paul’s lovely wife got to work. They freshened up the old house, and it was quite charming. They were even talking to my other family members about renovating the kitchen. Because Grandpa’s kitchen is original to the house. They never redid it in my lifetime. Paul wants to rent out the house because he doesn’t live in South Dakota. My aunt Nancy mentioned that they hired someone in their suburb of Chaska for kitchen remodeling.
I felt sad listening to them discussing the changes they wanted to make to HIS house. I know it’s his. I know. But this house has been the same for all of my fouty years of existence, and now it’s changing. So it made that moment in July bittersweet. There we were, all together at Grandpa’s house for the last time. And then it became Paul’s house.