I went back and read all of my old posts, chuckling to myself at the "Wow, FIVE MILES!!!" references. I really had no idea what I was in for, but I wouldn't change that for the world....little miss "I'm going to RUN the ENTIRE marathon!" ::snort::
Then I get to the entry about Granddad, and I just get so sad. I miss him so much, that it kind of hurts sometimes- it physically aches. I see the beautiful desert around me, and as the weather starts to warm up, I think of him and how "at home" he felt in Arizona. Of course, I'm sure he'd have a thing or two to say about the urban sprawl, as it's quite spectacular.
I see seed packets and garden equipment, which remind me of his attempts at growing tomatoes and cucumbers in the full AZ sun. And he succeeded, from what I can remember- he was such a good gardener.
He'd also trained a family of roadrunners to come by for a snack (ground beef) at the same time every day. He loved it. I'll never forget him telling me that sometimes he'd be taking a nap and if they came for their snack and he wasn't there, they'd rap rap RAP on the door with their beaks to "let him know" that they'd dropped by. Pokey, the desert tortoise, was also a fixture in their backyard. He wandered into the yard one summer and Granddad said that he was probably just "passing through". Well, Granddad took such a liking to him that when he tried to leave, he boarded up the fence so that Pokey became more of a......'permanent resident' in Casa de Hoggatt, wandering around from cactus to tree to plant.....and hibernating in the winter (this is very common in southern Arizona).
I look back on these memories and am heartbroken that I'll never get to share the desert with him again. I can tell he's around- these breezy evenings when it's still in the upper 90's and the cicadas start to chirp and the mourning doves start their songs.....I know he's here. However, it's not the same. Then I get angry. Stupid STUPID lymphoma. How DARE you rob me of my Granddad? Seriously? MY Granddad?
I heard once: "You can't change what happened but you can change what happens next". I think I need to remember these words when I have days like this, because these days are hard.
I miss you, Granddad.