One of the many things distracting me from my work is thoughts of this time last year. My Poppa passed away on October 14^th, 2008. One year ago. The night before I fed him some supper, talked about fishing, gave him a kiss on the forehead, said goodnight and that I would see him in the morning. He didn’t make it through the night.

I arrived in Ontario three weeks before he died. The first weekend he was outside building stairs. Three weeks later he was bed ridden and ready to let go. That month of doctors, nurses, hospitals, medications, and funeral planning seems like years ago and yet, like yesterday. It was an intense experience that I threw myself into, taking care of both of my grandparents as best I could. I was reacting and doing.

Unfortunately, it was not until after he died that I realized the true nature/extent of his personality and role in my life and that of our family and community. One of those ‘you don’t know what you’re missing until it’s gone’ scenarios… Not that I didn’t appreciate him before! I just didn’t fully understand what role he played until he was missing from the puzzle…

I miss him. Really miss him.