Last week the anticipation of going on a plane with my toddler alone, frolicking in the sand and waves and watching him eat his first ice cream cone from Kilwin's consumed my mind. I was racing with everything that needed to be done. All the last minute items that needed to be bought, the laundry that needed to be done and snacks that had to be packed for the plane. I was thinking of the fun to be had and the week of school left. I was glowing as I purchased a last minute ticket for my husband to join us. And then it all came to all halt on Saturday night.
"Grandpa isn't doing very well. He stopped eating and drinking and doesn't have much time left" says his mom as we are driving to a restaurant for our dinner date.
"Grandpa passed away tonight" says his mom as the rain hits our windows with a fierceness that scares even the strongest soul the next night.
Grandpa Fischer was my husband's grandpa. One of his two remaining grandparents. A Chicago Policeman, WWII veteran, and a Merchant Marine. A proud man, not overly emotional, but the kind of person you knew would help family in a heartbeat and knew the meaning of earning a living. He was quirky and set in his ways as an older man something I appreciated and deeply respected. Some laughed at the things he did, I smiled because it was him. He was himself.
But, cancer it got the best of him. He fought and he won this battle in the past, but this time it beat him and that sucks. Cancer Sucks.
As we stood in our kitchen on Sunday night, listening to the pounding rain, I watched as sadness crept into my husband's eyes. I know he was thinking about his own dad, his son, the memories, how much it hurts to lose someone you love and what this means for his family. The patriarch of his dad's side gone. And yet, all I could think was the present. Live in the now. Soak up the small things and never take for granted one minute of any day. Make sure when you leave this earth you leave with no regrets, no missed opportunities and leave a legacy. This jolt, death, though all too common lately in my life, reminds me that life is about living. My legacy.
And that is when I realized that work, its not worth talking about. Relationships, crappy so-called friends and nasty situations, they are not worth writing about. Life is about living and creating my legacy and this jolt reminded me of that.
It's not fair that cancer took him from us. We will live. We will celebrate him and we'll remember what he left us: seven kids , nineteen grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren. His legacy. His family. Trust me it's what he would want us to do.
Four generation of Fischer men. They met. That's special. That's what life is about. The little guy below he is our legacy. He's what I am most proud of and today, nothing else really matters. Not work, not crappy so-called friends, not people who check their values at the door, or anything else. My legacy. My son. My life. My family.