Monday, September 7, 2015

Not Enough Minutes

7 minutes and 53 seconds. That's just not enough minutes.

I knew a simple Facebook post would not have done this day enough justice. It was one year ago that you were reunited with Gran. It is hard to put into words the feelings I had that day. I just missed you...instantly. It was then that I couldn't call you anymore. Everything you knew, all of your knowledge, your stories...gone. If I didn't hear it by that day, I wouldn't hear it. I remember not wanting September 8th to come...it would be the first day that you weren't in, weren't a part of. It happened again on New Years Eve..I didn't want 2015 to come because then it would be "last year" when I spoke to you. The finality was overwhelming.

The fact that you lived 3,000 miles away was irrelevant...we spoke weekly. Sometimes we spoke for half an hour, sometimes it was only 2 or 3 minutes...but, the last time was 7 minutes and 53 seconds. I wish I would have known that was to be the last time...maybe I would have lingered longer on the line..asked you more questions...savored that thick Black Country accent a little more. I don't much remember what we spoke of...truth is, after we hung up you might have already forgotten as well. You weren't always super coherent...but I didn't mind. I would go along with stories of how you played volleyball one week but never liked the sport the next. I just liked hearing you talk and I think you liked talking about something other than your medicines and aches and pains.

7 minutes and 53 seconds. I get so upset with myself when I think of it. I always let you lead on how the conversation went...I never knew how you were feeling, if you were tired, or if I was interrupting a cricket match or football on the telly or anything so, if you seemed to want to talk or grumble I was a willing ear and if you wanted to to just say a quick "'ello, 'ow are yow?", that was fine too. That day...it took less than 8 minutes. Here's what I DO remember...I called from California. I am pretty sure we spoke of my trip across country and of Dozer, my cousins dog, who was sitting outside with me at the time. I was the only one awake...the 8 hour time difference sure limits when you can call. I told you I would speak to you again soon...and I didn't. We were on the road the following week and I couldn't get a hold of you the week after that. Then, that was it. You were in hospital and about 10 days later, you were gone.

A lot of things changed...the order of the world, it didn't seem right. I was all out of grandparents. I went to call you about 5 times in the weeks following, only for the painful reminder to sting my eyes and paralyze my heart...it was only for a second, but that was all it took. I still have that last call in my phone history...I certainly won't delete your contact. Jocelyn's birthday was a little tougher and a little less bright this year as she shares her day with yours...something we will always cherish.

Grandad, that was a wonderful 7 minutes and 53 seconds...and I would give anything to have another 7 minutes and 53 seconds with you, on the phone or otherwise. Make sure you remember me to Gran and give all my love to everyone!

Alan Abraham Whitehouse Griffiths
"Grandad"
July 5, 1920-September 7, 2014
"Your life is made of two dates and a dash. Make the most of the dash."  

















 

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