Thousands of thoughts running through my head.

I've been thinking about my next post for a while now. I've been working it out in my head, talking with some friends and just trying to work out what I would write. I've had all kinds of ideas and just had to put them down. That post was all but written. But this isn't going to be that post.
This past Thursday was my little sister's high school graduation. My family went, along with my grandma. My grandpa stayed home because he wasn't feeling good. After the ceremony, my sister had her all-nighter with school and the rest of us decided to go out for something to eat. My grandma called my grandpa to see how he was feeling and let him know that she was going out with us. He told her he was feeling a little bit better and was actually able to keep down a bowl of soup. I'm not entirely sure of what else he said, but I know he told her that he missed her and I'm pretty sure he said that he loved her before they ended the call.
We went to Applebee's for half price appetizers and it seemed like just about everyone else in the area did, too. It took us a while to get seated. And it took a while to get our food. And it took a while for us to finish. We watched the Red Wings win. We joked. We laughed. We celebrated my sister's graduation. And then we went home.
When we got back to our house we said goodbye to grandma and she headed home. We went inside and talked, though I can't remember what about. Then we all started settling in for the night. I was feeling kind of tired and was about to head to bed when my dad's phone rang. I thought it was my little sister, calling to be picked up like we had joked about earlier on that night. But it wasn't her. From the few words I could hear and the way my dad's mood changed so quickly, I knew something was wrong.
My grandma had arrived home to find that my grandpa had fallen asleep watching tv. After getting ready for bed, she went to wake him and tell him he should get to bed. He wouldn't wake up. That's when she had called my dad. He called the cops, told my older sister and me to wait for them to let us know what was going on and he took off out the door with my mom. So I sat there with my sister and we waited. That's when the thoughts started to pour in. Every possibility was running through my head. I was hoping beyond hope that we would get a call that he had just been in a really deep sleep. Or that he was on his way to the hospital, but it looked like he would be okay. But those calls just never came. Then, my sister's phone did ring. I hurried over to pick it up, because she was in the bathroom. My dad asked why I had picked up and I told him. He then simply said that grandpa was gone. It hurt to hear the pain in his voice even saying those few words. But I was able to hold it together. I was going to be strong for my dad. As I was trying to figure out if he wanted us to head over or not my sister came in and looked at me, asking the unspoken question with her eyes. I couldn't think of what to say, but she knew just looking at me. She started bawling. Then I lost it. That's what pushed me to the point where I could no longer hold back tears. I don't even know how long we stood there, tears pouring from my eyes, my older sister sobbing in my arms, all while I held the phone to my ear listening to a similar situation at the other end, not knowing what to say.
We drove over and by the time we got there the EMTs were leaving. Walking in the door just felt weird. I feel like that has become my new word to describe everything. Weird. But we sat up talking. And crying. And every once in a while laughing at a funny memory. It just all felt so surreal. There were a couple police there and we had some people come to talk through things with us. I think it was at least three in the morning before we ended up heading home, but I didn't really sleep much at all. I wasn't really tired anymore.
It wasn't really expected, but it also wasn't really not expected. My grandpa had had heart problems in the past that had put him in the hospital a few times. Those were the scares. But there was nothing to say that this time should have been any different. They told us that he most likely fell asleep and didn't even notice it at all when it happened. The heart attack was so sudden and so strong that he didn't have any pain. It was just one second he was there and the next he was gone. I guess that's really something to be happy about. I've seen people suffering and I'm glad he didn't have that. The crappy part though, is not really having a chance to say goodbye.
I read through an older post of mine that talked a little about death. It made me realize a couple things. One, that I used to be a lot better of a writer. Two, on a more serious note, I don't remember what the last thing I said to my grandpa was. Or what his last words to me were. It was probably the usual "Love you"s and goodbyes of when I would leave their house, but I just can't remember for sure. And that's just one of those thoughts that I've thought ever since that phone call. Sometimes it will be a random memory that will just come out of nowhere and rip at my heart. Sometimes it's something he used to say that will make me smile.
Friday night I had a wedding to go to with a friend. I thought it would be a good idea to go and keep my mind off things. Plus it was a chance to hang out with a great friend who I hadn't seen much lately and won't have another chance to see for a while. It was nice. I had a good time and it kept me from thinking too much. But it also just felt weird. And they had us sing "Amazing Grace" which brought tears to my eyes. I remember thinking how it's not really what I would think of as a wedding song.
After the wedding I just kind of drove around for a little while, not really wanting to go home. I got stuck at a train when it stopped on the tracks. Twice. I welcomed the chance to just sit with my thoughts, but after 15 minutes, went searching for another route. When I finally ended up at home, I had a random song pop into my head, looked it up and waited until I had listened to the whole thing before going inside. Switchfoot's "I Don't Belong Here" had a special message for me that night. It reminded me that this isn't our ultimate home. We don't belong in this world full of hate, pain, disease, death and sin. It brought me a bit of comfort that night, knowing that my grandpa was in a place so much better than where we are.
Sunday morning is probably the first time it really hit me hard. We went to church, only to find out that the message was going to be about suffering. That fact alone was like God reaching out and smacking me with reality. Then all the songs were chosen based off of the message. I couldn't sing. At all. I kept getting choked up, looked over to see my mom and sister were both crying too. Then one of the guys sitting across the aisle from us left and got us a box of tissues. It was such a simple little gesture, but the impact it had on me was massive. I thought to myself, "That's what the church should be." It doesn't always have to be a grand gesture. It doesn't even have to be the right words. It doesn't even have to be any words at all. But sometimes people just need to know that you're there for them, that you want to help. Even if it's such a small thing as grabbing a box of tissues. Such a small thing could actually be a really big thing. Anyway, back to the songs. The song that really got to me was the first song we sang, "Your Love Never Fails". It basically just talks about how even in the toughest times, God will always love us no matter what. It just got me thinking about how all of this is in God's hands and I couldn't help but picture my grandpa standing right there  with my God in unimaginable joy. From that song on, I could only get a few words out before choking up again.
Yesterday was weird. There's that word again. Weird. It was supposed to be a happy day of celebration, honoring the freedoms we have and the men and women who have fought to give them to us. Instead, it was a dull, dreary, drizzly day. We didn't really do much. Had an open house to go to for a friend and I went back to work for the first night since it happened. Work was a welcome distraction. It's funny how work usually seems to drag on, but when I actually seek that feeling, time flies on by.
Today is the visitation. And tomorrow, the funeral. I know that these couple of days are going to be the hardest, the days I really get hit with the realization that he is gone. Prayers for my family would be greatly appreciated.
Well, I've been writing this post for a few days now. I've just been unable to finish it and unsure if I really wanted to post it. Overall, I think it's mostly just been a way for me to process things. I feel like it's helped me make sense of things. My thoughts have calmed a bit. I'm not sure if it would be of much help to anyone else, but I guess I'll just post it anyway. It's not my best writing, I know that. It's more just a bunch of my feelings and thoughts poured out. Anyway, if you've made it here, thanks for reading the whole thing. I'll try to write again in a few days, when I can have a more reflexive perspective. Hopefully that will be a more helpful post.