As you may or may not know, I can't wait until fall. Fall is by far my favorite season, and I wait rather impatiently for it all year. However, every year I know that fall means October will be here, and October seems to be cursed.
Since 2008, Octobers have been a series of negative events for my family. Not a single October since then has gone by without someone dying, and it's supplemented with other atrocities. Typically it starts with something small and stressful, for example, the last two years have started with impending major surgeries for someone in my family. This year, I thought the first sign of the October Curse would be Papaw's surgery next Tuesday. I kept telling myself that would be it, that this year I would just have all of the anniversaries of sadnesses to deal with, that nothing new would happen, save for Papaw's surgery.
Last night at 1:26 Jacob woke me up with a question, "Amanda, where's your phone? Your mom just called me." A phone call from family in the middle of the night is never good. I spent the next few minutes trying to find my phone, and wake up enough to process what he'd said. I finally found my phone, saw my missed calls, and felt my heart drop. I looked at him, and said, "Oh my god Jacob, it's my grandpa."
I couldn't get enough signal with my phone to call, so I used Jacob's. Mama answered, and I said, "What's wrong?" She said exactly what I knew she would, "Amanda, your grandpa passed away tonight."
See, my grandpa has had a lot of health problems. He had the largest aneurysm Barnes in St. Louis had ever removed from an aorta removed when I was 12. We found out three years ago that an even larger one had formed on his aorta, and that because of its size and location, and the tumors his lungs were filled with, there was no way to have surgery on it.
His doctor told us that the aneurysm would eventually burst, and when it did Grandpa would have time to say, "It burst", and then he'd be gone.
Last night, at 12:30 a.m., Grandma heard Grandpa yell, "Wilma, oh Wilma, it's happened!" My Grandma had polio as a girl, and it left her paralyzed, so she kept yelling from the bedroom to him while she tried to get to her scooter. She made it to him in time to see him pass. My uncle Scott (a neurologist) heard and ran downstairs. He performed CPR while my aunt called 911. They all knew he had passed, but that didn't stop them from trying.
According to my Grandma, he had been in some pain that day, and she asked if he thought he needed to go to the hospital. He said that he had the right to be in pain, because he was old, and it didn't mean he should go to the hospital with every new ache. Grandma said he was particularly ornery that day, and that the last thing he did before he passed was pop some popcorn to eat while he watched his late night shows.
At this point it still doesn't seem real to me. It seems like I should hear him limp out of his bedroom, and say, "Well, Amanda! What are you doin' here?", just like he did every time I would come visit. It seems like he should come remind me that he was almost a 13 pound baby, to scare me more about Emery, and tell me stories about when Dad was a baby. He should grab my arm and squeeze so hard it hurt,like he always did. And he should say, "Your grandpa loves you.", with his voice cracking like it always did when he said that.
I spent all day every day from the time I was born until I was in high school at my Grandma and Grandpa's. They lived next door, so it was convenient for Mama to leave us there while she worked. My grandparents played a huge role in who I became. Grandpa is the first one to go home.
A man who went to school with my Dad posted this on Facebook this morning, and I feel like this sums Grandpa up pretty well, "
I just found out that Avon Snyder passed away. Avon was the father of one of my elementary/junior high/high school classmates. He was a great man and I am near tears at news of his passing. He and his wife, Wilma, ran the local grocery store, often putting their finances in jeopardy while making sure that those who needed credit in order to eat got what they needed. Avon's family was not wealthy. As a result, when he was a boy he often went to school without the basic necessities to be successful. As an adult, he and his wife made sure that every child who needed help with supplies got what they needed. He was named by the Missouri State Teachers Association as a 'Friend of Education.' He gave back to the community, working the Fall Festival; he was a fixture in civic life. The impact he had on my small hometown in far southwestern Missouri truly is immeasurable. The world is a poorer place without him. I will keep his family and the community in my heart as we grieve together in the coming days."
