Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my grandson's death. He was found dead in bed at a friend's house a few months after he'd been released from prison. There was some disagreement among family members of what he died from. And of course I have my own opinion because he had a history of ending up in emergency rooms from drug overdoses.
He and I had been at odds for a few years before he died. He had a habit of borrowing money from me then would quit talking to me for a year or two. We went through this cycle a couple of times of me loaning him money and and him not repaying me. Until it came to a point where we rarely communicated unless it was when we ran into each other by accident.
My first reaction to his death was anger. Because when he got out of prison his dad and I and a couple of other family members went out to dinner. I was happy that we were once more on speaking terms. And we discussed what he was going to do. And one thing he assured me of was that he was done with the drug world and wanted to make something of his life. He had the talent, looks, and personality to do anything and I really believed that he was going to make it this time.
I felt especially bad for his father – who loved him very much. Also, the sisters he was close to. They all grieved heavily when he died and many of them still are. I eventually got over my anger because it served no purpose. But my first reaction was anger because I felt such a loss at losing a young man who had the world going for him if he had just decided to follow the right path.
I will miss my grandson for the rest of my life. His death reminds me that we need to enjoy our lives every day and live life to the fullest. All any of us can do is move on from here and appreciate the good times that we enjoyed with him. I know that he would've wanted us to be happy, prosperous, and successful – rather than spend our days grieving his loss. But his loss does teach us that we need to enjoy our loved ones and be grateful for the time that our creator has given us.
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