When I was in eighth grade my Grandfather took my sister and me to Sea World. It was a good day. I remember being happy while I was there, but I didn't realize just how special that day was until years later. I think of that day a lot actually. Do you have memories like that? Days that were just kind of normal and then you end up looking back at them, the next week even, and thinking, "that was a really good day." Like Luci Swindall would say, my "soul was engaged".
My grandpa bought me a stuffed polar bear that day. I remember him paying for it. I was fourteen at the time, too old for stuffed animals, but that's what I loved about my grandpa, I was his grandbaby, no matter how old I got, and he was buying me a stuffed polar bear. I still have that bear, and I can't tell you how many times I have cried into that thing. I am 26 now, still too old for stuffed animals, but my grandpa bought me that bear, and if my house caught fire right now, I swear it would be one of first things I grabbed.
My grandfather has been dead almost ten years now, and I still cry at least once a week. I cannot explain the love and adoration I had for that man. Being tall, I was called "big" a lot, and it quite honestly caused an insecurity in me that led to unhealthy behaviors. I tried for the past ten years, ironically since he died, to do everything I could to shrink. I went days without food, but never without the gym. I kept my achievements quiet so as not to draw attention to myself. I would be loud, because I am naturally loud, but then I would remember, and I would get quiet. I would not raise my hand in class, although I honestly always know the answer, and I slouched myself into hiding, and bad posture. I was told once by a woman I did not know, as I was walking by her on my way to the treadmill, that she sees me in the gym all the time and I carry myself beautifully. I wanted to be flattered, but all I could think was, "You don't have a clue what you're talking about lady."
I never felt big when my grandpa was around. I felt special. I never felt in the way, I felt wanted. I would sit on the ottoman in front of his favorite leather chair and he would brush my long, thick, ridiculous curly hair for an hour, listening to me ramble about God knows what, but I never felt stupid, just heard. I loved sitting in my grandpa's lap. I loved his smell, and his stubble on his chin, I loved his glasses, and his strong French nose. I loved his gray hair, and I loved his collared shirts. I loved how I felt when I was with him, and I can honestly say it's a feeling I haven't felt since he died.
I will sound contradictory to my faith right now, but I know my mom was not supposed to be with my dad forever, BUT, if they had not been married, I would not have my grandfather, and although I only got 17 short years with that angel, I am half of who I am today because of him.
I have been searching for a long time for a man who might love me like he did, not in his heart necessarily, but out loud. My grandfather opened every door for me I EVER walked through next to that man, and in my childhood adolescence I would always say, " I can do it myself Grandpa." At the time I thought he was treating me like a child, but now I realize he was treating me like a lady, because even at six years old, that's what I was to him. Oh, how many times I have expected so much less for myself. How many times have I deviated from an example like that that was set for me. When I look back at my failed relationships, I always wonder what he is thinking. I wonder if he is sad for me, or if he knows I just made some mistakes. I wonder if he thinks, Megan Daleen, of all the things I wanted for you, this was never it.
I want a man like my grandpa, every woman deserves a man like him. Someone who will have Cheerio's and Nilla Wafers ready when you come over. Someone who will teach you to appreciate the simple things like Vanilla ice cream. Someone who will be screaming at a football game, while brushing your long, tangled hair. Someone who will open the door for you because he wants you to expect that for yourself, even if you don't understand that you should. Someone who celebrates every victory, no matter how small, and brings flowers to your childhood dance recitals. Someone who buys you the best of the best, because even if you don't see it, that's what you deserve. Someone who will let you sneak and watch talk shows at his house, even though he knows you're not allowed, because you need someone to share some secrets with him, and he's honored you chose him. Someone who answers your childish questions with patience, and never makes you feel inadequate for asking them. Someone who nurtures your curiosities and uniqueness, even if he's the only one. Someone who buys you a shake at In-n-Out, and then a soda because you're still thirsty.
I am glad my grandfather is with our God in Heaven, but I won't pretend I don't still wish he was here. I miss watching him say grace before dinner, I miss watching my grandmother comb his hair. He would turn around and smile a sheepish smile at me, almost saying, " I can do this for myself, I just like your grandma to do it for me." I loved that smile, it made me laugh because I thought we had our own little secret. I loved that this man that I thought was superman, needed his hair combed. I miss the sound of him gurgling mouthwash in the morning, I miss his laugh most of all. I would give anything to have him here, but I'm okay with where he's at.
The last visit I had with my grandfather we took a walk. He had just been released from the hospital a couple of weeks prior, having gotten a surgery they told us he might not make it through. We talked about how he was feeling, he said he was getting stronger. I told him I wanted him to come see me cheer at my first varsity game, he said he would. He died two weeks later, but he came to my game anyways. I'd give anything to hug him again, but I'm glad he's where he's at. My faith is the greatest thing I have, my family comes next. But sometimes I waver, as anyone does, and I get lonely and I feel afraid. I have been through the absolute worst six years of my life, most of it being my own doing. I don't know what I would have done without that polar bear doll to cry into, the way I am crying into it now.
I don't like much of this world anymore. I get scared a lot lately. I hate how mean people are, because hurt people hurt people. I work in a job that makes me question my faith in humanity every day. I have many days where my love for God is the only thing that keeps me happy, because it restores my love for life again. I am scared to die, but I know where I am going, and I cannot wait to be there. I know my grandpa is the first person I will see, and I will have someone to brush my hair again.
I bought a stuffed polar bear from Sea World. It does not look the same, obviously. And it will never be the same. But there was something about standing in line in the same building I stood in with him 12 years ago that reminded me he was here. Soon I will have lived on this earth more days without him, then with him, and it makes me sad. But I have an old, soft polar bear to cry into, and a new one to remind me life moves on. The man I marry one day will buy me a stuffed polar bear. I will be far too old for one, but I will be his baby, and he will want me to have one. He will open doors for me, and I will comb his hair. I don't know if I will ever get married again. It's funny because I thought my standards weren't high enough, but I think it might be the opposite. I think my standards are so high, I settle for less assuming no one will ever compare. I am not worth the work to a lot of men out there, and that's okay, because I was worth the work to one man. I didn't have the choice to shrink when I was with him. No matter how hard I tried to be smaller, he made me larger than life. I wish he was here to remind me of that, but I'm okay with where he's at.
I just hope he is thinking the same about me.
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