A strange experience from yesterday

[cognito20]

(Reposted from OOT, by suggestion.)

I don't know that, and don't expect that, this post will have any importance to anyone on these boards besides myself, but I wanted to post it anyway.

My grandfather died on Thursday morning, 4 days after his 90th birthday, peacefully in his sleep after a long and frankly horrible battle with Alzheimer's and dementia. I've been in Buffalo for the past few days for the wake and the funeral. My Poppop and I were very close, and these frankly have been 3 of the worst days of my entire life. I'm happy he's in a better place now. I believe that wherever he is now, his handicaps are gone, he's reunited with his mother and dad and sister, who he loved deeply, and he's not sick anymore, but I already miss him terribly.

My wife Becky and I were driving home after the family get-together after Poppop's funeral, and of course there were a lot of tears as we were driving towards home. I told Becky that I always thought that Poppop was disappointed in me, because of various stupid things I did when I was in my late teens/early twenties. I also don't think he completely approved of my choice of career (professional online poker player, naturally), but never actually said as much to me and offered at least tacit encouragement to me until the mental deterioration began to set in. There were other choices I've made in my life when I was younger, most having to do with illicit substance ingestion, that I tried to hide from him but am not sure of the success of my deceit. It's easy to slowplay a flopped boat or move fish off of their marginal hands with aggressive play, but it's a lot harder to fool people like my grandfather about the things that -really- matter. Anyway, Becky said that he was proud of me, and not disappointed, and that he loved me dearly and even after much of his mind had gone by the time she knew him, she could tell that by seeing him look at me. AT THAT MOMENT, the XM Roady satellite radio we have in the car, and were listening to the 1970s channel on during the drive, had its antenna go dead. For no reason. We were on Route 63 south of Batavia, New York, driving through a completely open field, with nothing to possibly interfere with the satellite antenna reception. It took me about 10 seconds to fiddle with the antenna and get reception again. By then the song and the pad data had changed. It was "Seasons In The Sun", which of course is a song about death, by Terry Jacks.

My grandfather's name was Jack Terry.

I play poker for (part of) my living, and I have a background in mathematics although my majors were in German and Russian in college. I deal frequently with mathematical constructs such as game theory, statistical analysis, and probability. I am fully aware that it MAY have been merely a weird coincidence that that particular song (out of a library of, say, 2.5 million songs that XM has in their computers according to their promos), performed by a man with my grandfather's name in reverse, happened to come up on the radio right at that precise moment of time. I choose to believe differently. I think it was Poppop, trying to tell me that he loved me and that he wasn't disappointed in me. I think he was there with me, heard what I said, and tried to let me know that he was OK and not to worry about him, that he had had a long and fruitful life and that he was in heaven.

For the last 2 years or so of his life, Poppop really couldn't get around all that well. His favorite thing to do was to sit in his easy chair and listen to CDs of music from the 1930s and 1940s that he grew up with. Becky and I would bring some up to him whenever we visited. He especially liked my Ellington album collection and collections of WW2 music. He also loved Ted Lewis; according to my grandmother he never thought much of him as a musician but thought he was a great entertainer. Well, after this happened and we were sure that he was there with us in the car, in spirit, we figured we'd do something he'd enjoy to make the ride better for him and let him know we got his message. We switched the XM station off of the 70s for the first time since we started out, and over to channel 4, the 1940s pop channel, and the 3 of us listened to Duke Ellington, the Andrews Sisters, the Ink Spots, Bing Crosby, and the Louis Armstrong All-Stars one last time together for the rest of the trip. I guess it was our way of saying goodbye to Poppop and to thank him for his life and his influence on our lives. It brought some much needed smiles to our faces during a very unpleasant time of our lives.

I don't know particularly why I felt the need to post this...I've been busy for the last few hours getting cold-decked and outdrawn by fish pushing rough queens in Razz in the Stars HORSE games for the last 5 hours and decided to take a break and come on over and check out the 2+2 boards. Maybe it's because, for all the contentiousness and nittiness that can sometimes manifest itself in this forum, it -is- an important part of my life, someplace I visit for at least a little bit every day I can, and somewhere I feel comfortable making this sort of post. Maybe it's therapy. Maybe it's part of the grieving process. Maybe it's an admittedly indirect way of paying tribute to my grandfather. I don't know, and I don't really feel like over-analyzing it. If you got this far, thank you for reading.

--Scott (and Rebecca) Blish

[WiSeIVIaN]

I appreciate your post. Thank you.

[33edapynsy]

nice post

[Bill C]

You were lucky to have him for your Poppop, and he was also lucky having you for a grandson.

I am a grandfather myself. I can't begin to tell you the joy one gets from a grandchild. When one looks at a grandchild, he sees the whole line; himself and his wife, but also his parents and perhaps his grandparents, and his children. I really believe having grandchildren (or great-grandchildren if you live long enough) is as close as we get to immortality.

So when you think of him, you will find some of yourself in there. And I am quite sure he felt the same way about you. And you can bet he had long forgiven any youthful indiscretions on your part, as he breathed a sigh of relief that you didn't know some of the things he did at that age.

Best to you...
bc

bc

[dustybottoms]

First, Cognito, my condolences.

As soon as I read your post, it immediately reminded me of a very similar coincidence I experienced. In '02, I turned 25, almost a year to the day after my mother died. And on my 25th birthday, I was on my way home from work, and suddenly heard the song "Fly" by Sugar Ray. A popular song to be sure, but I hadn't heard it on the radio in a long while. One of the lyrics of the song "25 years old. My mother god rest her soul."

I teared up a bit, and looking back I should have just pulled over somewhere and let it flow. Just kept driving, though.

FWIW, I'd bet that your grandfather didn't judge you by your chosen living, or by the questionable choices you made in your life. He knew the real person inside, a person as imperfect as the rest of us.

[swede554]

Nice post indeed. I'm not a very religious person, but reading something like this always make you wonder....

[canada_dry]

Cognito,

Thank you for the post. It is refreshing to read something like this amongst the myriad of drivel found on the 2+2 forums. I am also impressed that no sarcastic nor ignorant replies have been posted.

I, too, often wonder about the afterlife. If it exists. Is there a point to our existence...

I really don't know...

[RydenStoompala]

Nice post. Well remembered.

[aroddolla]

I just got home from the hospital where my mother, age 57, is lying in bed with metastatic stage 4 lung cancer. She is hardly alert and has not ate in 7 days and barely sips on a sponge dipped in water.This is her second time with cancer, she survived breast cancer 18 years ago. On tuesday i start classes for my senior year in college. Fortunatly i dont think i could have a better father, sister, brother in law and girlfriend. I also know that when my mother was praying one night while she was in terrible pain the virgin mary visited her waved her arm down the lenght of her body and she was pain free for the rest of her the night. Since her expierince she has been nothing but positive. She will be in a good place... god bless her.

[cognito20]

Thank you to everyone who posted for your words of condolence and your thoughts. Becky and I truly appreciate them and we are grateful to you for taking the time to post them. We will not forget the kindness shown to us on these boards by people who, in one sense, are strangers, but in quite another are not.

Aroddolla, after reading your post Becky and I prayed for you, your family and your mother. We prayed for your mother's soul and asked God to receive her into his everlasting and omnipotent grace when the time comes for her to be with him. We prayed that you and your family will be able to deal with her loss with a minimum of suffering and that she will be a part of all of your lives as long as you live, and that you will eventually be reunited with her in heaven. She is going to be in a much better place, and she is going to be exceedingly happy, and she is no longer going to be in pain. One of the ways that I'm dealing with Poppop's loss is not to think of him as gone forever, because he's not. He's just gone on a very long vacation and (I'm 34) I'm just not going to see him again for 45-50 years. Maybe sooner, maybe later. Gives me something to look forward to.

God bless you, and God bless your mother.

--Scott and Rebecca Blish

P.S. - When your mother gets to heaven, could she find my grandfather (he'll be the guy asking everyone what's on their shirts and then flicking their noses when they look down) and kindly request that, while I love the fact that he loves me enough to send me signals that he's OK, he might want to consider using slightly better songs than "Seasons in the Sun" to do so in future? Thanks. :-)