The Last Days

I haven't been on this in forever. But here goes.

My grandpa, one of the greatest men in the world, if not the greatest passed away on December 6th 2012. At the age of 80. This man suffered a lot. Multiple strokes and seizures and diabetes and other things. But he always got back up. He always kept on marching through. He lived on. He left behind a wife, 5 daughters(including my mom). 4 sons. Over 20 grandkids (including my sister and I) and 7 great grandchildren. He left behind a lot of people that loved him. A lot. He was the nicest man ever. He was a wonderful man. If truth be told he left us December 1st, when his latest stroke attacked causing him to go unconcious. And he didn't wake up from that. But Thursday December 6th was the day he stopped breathing.

My grandpa. When I was little he'd take me to school, I grab his hand and we'd walk to my elementary school. Every morning whether it was sunny or icy he was walking me. And he'd always hum this little random tune. Over the summers my sister and I would go to my grandparents house every day. We'd get there early in the morning (my mom would drop us off on her way to work). My grandma would make us breakfast. And afterwards we'd go out to the backyard. My sister would play around and I'd sit next to my grandpa. He'd fall asleep in his chair and I'd read. It was our bonding time. Every time I got a new book I'd show it to him and he'd take the book and look it over and tease me about how all I'd do is read. It was our moments together. There are so many that I have and I will always cherish. I will always miss him, and I will always love him. He showed me to never give up, even when life kicks you to your knees. I still remember the last time we went to visit my grandparents, it was only a few days before he had the stroke. 2 days before. And the last thing I said to him was "bye, I love you." And I meant it. And I mean it. I'm crushed that he's gone, but I'm grateful for the memories I have. And that I had the chance to say something meaningful.

I love you Apa.

My first semester in college is over. The last day of classes was alright, we had a potluck in English. And a review in math. It really didn't feel like the end.

And just yesterday I had my final Final for the semester. It was French, and my teacher was shocked that I was not indeed a French major and she told me that I should be. It was really weird. I'm on winter break. I've made it through my first semester.

And here's some thoughts on that.

At the risk of sounding like a nerd I don't think having class twice a week is effective and for only 50 mins. I just feel like I don't learn as much as I should.

I hate math.

I hate finals.

I'm glad for a break.

College is not what it's all cracked up to be. I feel so overwhelmed. In HS I used to be really smart. I had a lot of things to show for it. And here? Everything I do...will never be as good or enough as the THOUSANDS of other people.

In the end this was a tough semester, tougher than I thought it would be.

But I am not in high school anymore. That's for sure.

And the world is supposed to end tomorrow. I know it won't but I almost wish it did so I wouldn't have to deal with crap. And no that is not a suicidal thought, it just means I wish things weren't so tough, or I wish I was smarter.

Oh well.

At my house we have a candle for my grandpa lit. So that he may never be without light. And here's a candle in my blog for him as well. This will always be here. As well as for the little kids that were taken away from life in Connecticut. RIP everyone that has passed away this year. And I've known/heard of a lot of people this year.