I’ve been spending a lot of time in cemeteries here in Denmark. Weird I know, but they’re very beautiful and they are a big part of the green space in the country. Moreover, they don’t seem to be only solemn grounds of remembrance, but also happy reminders of those who have moved on. But for me, after telling Deni about some of the shit in my life, I find them meaning only one thing: loss. I lost my grandfather once, and only now, years too late, am I finally realizing how much I miss him. It started at Relay for Life this spring and it has been growing ever since. Sometimes, when I speak of him or experience something that reminds me of him I cannot help but wish here were still alive. I just wish that he would have lived to see me mature into the man I am today, rather than never having seen me move beyond the struggling boy of my teen years.
Today we walked through a beautiful cemetery in the center of Esjberg, right behind an equally beautiful church. It wasn’t beautiful in the imposing sense of the grand cathedrals, but rather beautiful in its simplicity and humbleness. Stuck in my head was Together We Cry by The Script, and suddenly I was overcome with an overbearing sense of remorse. Remorse for years lost, remorse for opportunities lost, but even more remorse for every time I have failed to drop my guard and let people in. All this remorse, this heaviness, all this took on the shape of my grandfather.
All I want right now is to kneel down beside this grave and pay him my silent respects. I want to tell him how much I love him and how much we all miss him. I want to show him I am a man, that I am capable of loving, of showing affection. I want to let down my guard. I am looking to the cold to find the warmth I’ve always sought.
Poppop, I love you.