I was six years old when I remember not wanting to move into the house my mom and stepdad were moving into together. The life I had known up to that point was solely filled with experiences at my grandparents house. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave grandma and gramps. I pulled, I tugged, I cried, I screamed. I didn’t want to go. But I had to let go. I had to let go of grandma and gramps and start moving towards a life lived with my mom and soon to be stepdad. I didn’t want to let go. But I did.
Sunday, May 5th 2013 it is one year from losing my grandfather, Bonifacio “Bonney” “Gramps” Maestas. I am writing this on Saturday because I don’t know if I could write this on Sunday. Not only because of the half marathon or my family being in town, but because my heart will be in shambles.
It’s hard not to think about all of the things that gramps has missed in the last year. My boys have really grown up. I got a promotion at work. I finally got my gramps tattoo. I finally got to go to Washington DC. The travel and the tattoo would’ve bothered gramps but he still would’ve really loved to listen to my travel stories.
Tomorrow morning, I’m getting up at 5:15. After months of training, I am going to run in the Lincoln Half Marathon. In fact, as I scheduled this to post at 8am, I will be about 3 miles into the run. The second I heard that the marathon is happening on May 5th, I knew I had to sign up and run it for him. I had to do something to take away from the inevitable pain that’s going to fill my heart on Sunday. My boys have made signs for me. I had shirts made by Basement Ink. 20 of my family members across the state will be wearing them to honor gramps tomorrow. I’ll try my damnedest to celebrate gramps tomorrow. Crossing the fifty yard line of Memorial Stadium is going to be a great moment. I will raise my hand and my heart and finish strong for my muchacho.
This has been a hard year. After losing gramps, I’ve lost one of the few male influences I’ve ever had in my life. It’s been tough not having the man who raised me for 6 years not be able to answer the phone. The last time I went to Cozad, it may have been the hardest time I’ve had being back. I went to his house and just sat in the driveway, missing him. I drink primarily scotch and whiskey when I do go out and drink. Cutty Sark was his favorite scotch.
My heart is being pulled in different directions. I feel like the 6 year old kid. I have two boys who need my mentoring. The mentoring that I got from gramps. I have run into situations with my boys that I don’t know how to handle. I wish I could call.
It’s been a year. I feel tugging…I feel like crying…screaming…I don’t want to let go. Every day my heart hurts. I’m a mess.
But now I see my two boys. I see how much they need me to teach them the things I’ve learned. It’s what gramps would want. He would want me to be strong. He would want me to let go. He wouldn’t want me crying, screaming, hurting.
It’s time to let go.