Saturday, July 14, 2012

Open Letter: What I Didn't Have a Chance to Say

Roberto Villanueva
(11/21/63-7/7/12)
Rest in Peace

My heart feels heavy.

I regret I didn't get a chance to get to really know you. I believed as I got more ingrained into the family fabric we would have more of an opportunity. However, all it took was a misdiagnosis and for things to run too rampant to be stopped. 

My grandfather's fate was that they thought they got all of it out and the remnants that remained from the operation didn't have a chance to turn cancerous. Well, the doctors got that wrong, and with my grandfather being up in age, they deemed the chemotherapy too risky.

When I got the news about things deteriorating, I had that same feeling when my grandmother gave me the call back in March about my grandfather. I had the feeling you weren't going to be around much longer; if the opportunity wasn't taken advantage of, I wouldn't get another one. I still remember just before I left, when I was at the hospital bed, you told me that you'd “see me later”. What you didn't know is that afterward, I cried, because I just sensed that I wouldn't.

Then, the world stops. That is what it feels like when you lose someone close to you, especially if it seems way too soon. 

In my grandfather's case, he lived a relatively full life prior to being diagnosed. However, for you, I still believe you had more things you wanted to accomplish, more memories you wanted to share, and that was taken from you.

I know you were quite impressed with the turnout; believe me, you were not the only one, but it shows how much you were thought of, and that is definitely something to smile about. I know you appreciated the wonderful slide show and the words everyone said. Krystal's rendition of that song was incredible.

I am so glad you are no longer suffering. I know you are glad of it as well. It will take some time for those of us here to adjust. I keep waiting for you to pop on Xbox, invite your sons to play Gears of War or Zombies on Call of Duty Black Ops. Map, of course, had to be Five. Discussing strategy and becoming animated if things didn't go according to plan. I admit I don't take the games nearly as seriously but I do respect those who do.

I want to commend you on being there for two boys whose father didn't want to stick around and take responsibility. Some people say, “Well, when you are with a woman with children, that comes with the territory.” 

However, every man doesn't have that same mentality. Every man doesn't step in and try to be a role model or an epitome of characteristics a man should have or what one should be. You stepped in and did it the best way possible. I respect you for that.

Say hello to Colby and Franklin (my cats) for me, if they aren't hiding from Clyde and Buster. When you see my grandfather up there, feel free to sit and have a chat with him. Some of the words, like “authenticate”, he may not get—he's a simple man, but I have a hunch that you guys would get along, although he will never understand the concept of conversational cussing.

See you later.



2 comments:

Reggie said...

I feel you. You put so much of yourself in this post. Sometimes we've gotta do that. Remembering our loved ones that have moved on isn't so much for them as it is for us.

No Labels said...

Thanks, Reggie.

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