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Sleeper-Desolate — For Papa
Published: 2004-10-24 01:40:54 +0000 UTC; Views: 105; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 11
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Description
Just in case anyone feels that is listed incorrectly:Photojournalism: Photography intended to describe or document in pictures the events of individuals, groups of people, governments, history, and so on. Photojournalism gives us newsworthy photographs wherein the primary motivation is to recount a story, the photographer never disturbing the natural events in the scene.
This is meant to describe my grandfather, in his life. He was an amazing man, I was so privelledged to know him for the brief span of time that I did. These two photographs were taken during the last ten years of his life. I can't be sure exactly when he died, because I've sort of blocked out the date and I don't want to ask my dad; I don't want to upset him. I know that it was around this time, in the autumn, because I was taken out of school to travel down to Virginia to attend his funeral (in 1999, I believe).
I wish I could have known him better; I love when someone tells me that I do something the way he did, or that I have a certian feature that reminds me of him. He may not have been a perfect man, but he was my grandfather and I loved -and still love- him more than anything. This is in honour of him, of his death, but mostly in honour of his life.
Jimmy Eat World -- Hear You Me
There's no one in town I know
You gave us some place to go
I never said 'thank you' for that
I thought I might get one more chance
What would you think of me now,
So lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said 'thank you' for that
Now I'll never have a chance
May angels lead you in
Hear you me, my friend
On sleepless roads, the sleepless go
May angels lead you in...
And if you were with me tonight
I'd sing to you just one more time
A song for a heart so big
God wouldn't let it live
I sing that song sometimes, and I hope that he can hear me.
I would give anything to speak with you again, Papa, anything... I love you and miss you so much. You left me, you left us much too soon. But I'll see you again. I have to.
I love you, Papa.
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Comments: 6
So awsome. You must really have cared for him. You are so lucky to have known your grandparents. I think I know how you feel. I'm not sure. I never knew my mom's birth-parents. I never even knew her adoptive-parents. I don't remember my dad's father, but I don't like the way my dad talks about his so bitterly. My dad's mom passed away two years ago on Halloween. I don't know if he misses her. From what I've heard, she wasn't much of a mother. She had alzheimers disease for as long as I can remember, and I can remember back to when I was two. I wish I had known my mom's mom. My mom talks about her sometimes. She says I remind her of her mom sometimes. I bet my grandmother would have baked me cookies and sewn me clothes to wear and she would have given me some of her old things and I would have appreciated them because I love old things like that. She might have given me the old Tommy Dorsey records she used to play. We might have listened to them together and she might have taught me how to dance like she used to dance. She might have told me wonderful stories about herself and what she used to do for fun. She might have told me about my mom and my uncle and how she always liked my mom better because my uncle was a rotten tomato and a black sheep. My grandmother would teach me so many things that I would never forget as long as I live. But I never knew her, and she never knew me, and I don't even remember when she died, but it was long ago. I think she got sick with something. I don't know what. I don't want to ask. I don't want to make my mom cry. I don't want to cry thinking about my mom crying. I'm going to stop now, I think I'm crying any way.
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I'm so sorry. I can sort of know how you feel... I never knew my mom's father... but... wow, I really don't know what to say. 
*sigh*
I'm so very sorry.
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Aw, it's okay. It's good to cry sometimes. I guess I wallow in my own self-pity too much and I guess when I start writing about something like that I can't stop. I unleashed too much emotion on you, don't feel bad it's my fault. I've just been wanting to write all that down for ages and I never got around to it and finally it all burst out into the open. Don't feel bad, I'm sorry that you're sorry. 
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Noo... It's fine. 
Ah well.
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