My mother called me and asked me to pick up my sister because my grandfather is going to pass away in a few hours. I don't know why this is moving me so much, but it is. It's like my history is passing away. I never knew him very well, but my mom was close to him in the last five years. It's hard to see.
What do I believe now? The witnesses always had 'comfort' in the way of a religous sermon, that felt more like a JW advertisement. I wish I had some good hope for my grandfather besides a cold grave.
I remember he and I playing with wood blocks that he had made to look like a city. He was a gifted craftsman, and could make dollhouses that would leave you in awe. He cared for my grandmother for ten years until he passed away. It's only been three months, and now we wont be able to enjoy the world, even for a little while.
I didn't think I would be moved this much. My mother isn't a mess, and is holding up ok, which is even more sad. It's almost like she's not allowed to have her day of grief, because my JW father spouts rhetoric so much.
Her mother just passed away about three months ago, and now this. My mother deserves better; she at least deserves a husband who will grieve with her, if only to understand her grief.
I'm incredibly sad, and wanting a good explanation for all of it; perhaps that's why I left the JW's in the first place.
Whatever you guys believe, please say a prayer, or if you're an athiest, wish my grandfather's memory to not be forgotten. His name is Al.