Sunday, November 20, 2005

My paternal grandfather died today and I don’t feel any pain. I guess the reason behind it is that we didn’t spend much time together. We always lived hundreds of miles apart. Then I went fifteen years without seeing him. When I saw him last year, I wanted him to talk to me about family history. Instead, he wanted to talk about God. There we were: an 80 something year old Jehova’s witness and his 26 year old self-proclaimed-atheist grandson. Suffices to say, our conversations didn’t last very long, but I wasn’t the only one who felt awkward around him. For most of his life, my grandfather immersed himself in his study of the bible. He allowed his love for Jehova to consume his life. He distanced himself from his wife and children, and they held a grudge against him as a result of it.

Nonetheless, my father mourns his death. I find it surprising that he mourns to the extend he does. Up until recently he had done a good job of hiding his feelings. In addition, in the few occasions I heard him speak of my grandfather, I didn’t perceive utmost love and respect. Neither did I see it last year as I saw them interact in our visit to Mexico. But there he is now, devastated. It seems that he has finally allowed his emotions to run free. I don’t know whether to be glad or sad for him.

Very few tragic events get a reaction from me. September 11 did nothing for me. I won’t be heard joking about it, but neither did I shed a single tear as I saw it unfold on LIVE television. It was years later that I felt a slight discomfort as I watched a documentary on it. To get to that point, I put myself in the shoes of those who had to choose between dying in flames or jumping off an immense building. Not a good choice to make.

Earlier this year my father, my little brother, and one of my sisters were involved in a serious car accident. My mother seemed shocked when she told me of it. I remained calm on our way to the emergency room. It was only when I saw my little brother that I realized how fortunate I was that the accident didn’t turn out to be fatal.

Part of me is glad that I don’t become upset by tragic events. The other part of me thinks that I have a lot of growing up to do. I find myself agreeing with the latter.

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