Tuesday, July 1, 2008
This is a picture of me and my grandfather, Sharner. He lived with us when I was little. I was actually given my baby's blessing sitting on his stomach while he lay in bed. He had a hospital bed in my mom's dining room while he lived with us.
I'm not really sure where the name Sharner came from. The story goes that I just started calling him that when I was little. I think it fits.
Sharner died when I was about four. I was sleeping on the couch in the living room with my sister, Annie. I remember waking up and walking into the front hall where my mom and dad where standing. "Where is Sharner going?" I asked as I saw them taking him away. My parents told me that Sharner had to leave but he was going to a better place, to heaven. I wasn't statisfied with this answer, but I also knew I didn't have a choice. I remember watching as the emergency vehicles drove alway. I remember feeling so much loss when I couldn't see their red and white stripes and sirens anymore, but feeling strangly calm.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have grandparents that were still alive, but then I look back on my memories and I am happy with my experiences with my grandparents even if they were long ago.