Healing Day

Hello all. It has been an extremely long day. Yesterday, my worst nightmare happened: my Papa(grandpa) died. How or when I do not know. All I know is that he is gone, and I was the last grandkid to talk to him before he went. It wasn't a remarkable conversation. We talked about Gatlinburg, Julie and Julia, and Doctor Who. I told him I loved him. I'm glad I got to do that. Mom tricked me into coming back home by saying that I had left something at the office. Her voice sounded even and fine, so I came back, curious about what I could have forgotten. No matter how much I wracked my brain, I just couldn't think...until I saw Mom's office door open and all her coworkers standing around her.
There is a moment of recognition, the putting of two and two together when you know you are about to get bad news. It was when I saw my mom's face. She was trying so hard to figure out how to tell me. I didn't want her to. I already knew and at the same time I didn't want it to be true. I didn't cry; I couldn't. I couldn't believe what she was telling me. I simply hugged her and my eyes were so wide with disbelief, I probably didn't blink for several minutes. I let her cry and take me back to her office, where Mel and Ray were. Mel was crying. I held her, but I still couldn't cry. Dad came to the office, saw Mom and Mel crying and he began to cry. I hugged him, but I still couldn't cry.
I just couldn't believe that the thing that kept me up at night so often had finally happened. It wasn't until I got to my car and called Andrew that I began to sob. It was painful and I felt like I was going to die myself. And so it goes. I don't know how much I have cried; a lot less than mom and mel. I feel like I can't cry in front of them because I can't bear to see them in pain. I uploaded pictures today from our Gatlinburg trip just a few minutes ago, and I can't help but wonder if my family will ever be this happy again. I don't know if we will. All of our holidays will be sadder, whenever a kid is screaming in a restaurant he won't be there to applaud the parents when they finally take the brat out, and I won't be expecting that Saturday morning phone call from him to see how my week went.
It hurts. I miss him. And it's going to be a long time until I get to see him again. But I am grateful for two things: that he is in Heaven with Nana and that i got to spend the time with him that I did. I haven't told too many people, because I don't want the empty I'm sorries. But I feel like I need to write about it and send it out there in the world.
My Papa was a fantastic man, and I love him so much. I wish he could have been there for Mel's and my graduation, for my wedding day, for the births of my kids. It's like Mom said "I thought he would live forever." I did too. I thought there was so much more time left with him. And now he's gone and I won't see him again in this life. But I have the faith that I will see him again.
I have been doing better since the news came yesterday. I am eating, going about my day, laughing and trying not to dwell on it. When I do feel sad, I cry. I talk to him and Nana...and Julia Child. I think they are having a great meal and chat with her as we speak.
Today it rained when the sun was shining brightly, something that hasn't happened in quite a long time, and I remembered what Papa used to tell me: The devil is beating his wife. But I think that Papa was just letting me know that he's still here and he is now with the woman he loves. Papa, if you are listening, if they have blogs in Heaven: I love you.