Homecoming.

At last, I am back home.

Took a while, including a delayed flight, but I finally got back home for grandpa. It's still very much surreal to me - grandpa is really gone? He had just gone on a vacation back in June! I feel like grandpa is just gone on an extended grocery run and could show up any minute now, and we'd all laugh about what a big misunderstanding it turned out to be.

As much as I would love for that to be true, I know better.

So, I asked for his forgiveness for my broken promises. I gave him a quick update of my life. And with tears flooding my eyes, I punched the wall as I walked down the stairs in my grandparents' house.

That last part, I've learned not to repeat because a) grandpa would probably smack me on the head if I put unsightly holes on his wall and b) my hand kinda hurts afterwards.

Grandpa, You Fuckin' Rocked.

The past 24 hours has been an roller coaster of emotions.

It started with me filled with happy happy joy joy feelings for all. All was good!

I had no idea what was waiting for me.

When my baby sis unsuccessfully tried to set up three-way calling with dad and me, at 12:55 am, I was blissfully clueless.

When my dad insisted on calling me after the unsuccessful attempts, still I suspected nothing.

When dad's impromptu call turned to discussing some dude who claims to have foreseen 9/11 and promises the coming of cures for AIDS & cancer before the year's over, I thought nothing more - dad's been watching too much TV.

I was getting sleepy. Still a little high from the day.

When dad started to go on about how mysteriously random cancer could be, and that humanity should do what we can to fight it, I thought he must be on a sugar high.

Then...

I finally picked up that something was up when dad ask me if I was sitting while reminding me that life is, well, life. Good and bad, he said, we need to take it in strides.

"Dad, what's going...?"



"Son, please forgive me for keeping you in the dark, but grandpa passed away yesterday afternoon."

"The cancer was just too aggressive. The rare form made it all but untreatable, even if caught early."

"Son, you know Grandpa would have wanted you to do your very best. He was a strong man all his life, and nothing changed at the end."


Stunned. Surprised. Dreaming. No, wait - NIGHTMARE?


Turns out, the entire family kept me in the dark. They didn't want this to affect my performance at this crucial career junction. Turns out, grandpa had a run of the mill fever that quickly escalated over 4th of July weekend to a rare carcinoma of the bile duct. Turns out, it was metastatic upon diagnosis.

Suddenly, it all became clear. I remembered why sis was stalling about emailing me the new family photos from her recent trip home. I remembered why mom told me she was sick and was at the hospital picking up drugs for herself. I remembered why grandma started calling me past midnight, chatting about me being a slacker. I remembered why the FEW times I called the grandparents, grandma always told me grandpa was in the shower.

Suddenly, this strange sensation surged through my nose like an out-of-control freight train. A big, honkin' super bullet freight train.

And just like that, I was crying. Am, actually. Will, most likely.
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My laptop decided to play Foo Fighters' "Learn to Fly" and "Times Like These" in loop. Or was it me?
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You know, I had promised grandpa I'd visit this summer. Soon. After I am more settled down with work, career, you know the deal. I had so much to share with him. I had it all planned out.

I promised.