Not many people have seen me cry and the few that have often witnessed my tears out of frustration or anger. The people who have seen me cry over raw emotion or hurt I can probably count on both my hands…with Cris leading that pack at about eight times I’d say.

I’m not and never have been someone who feels that crying shows some sort of innate weakness. I’ve just always bottles things up, tucked them away, and tried my best to ignore them. I’d venture to say that I’ve managed to get very good at doing this over the years.

It’s no great secret that I come from an…uh…interesting family background. I haven’t spoken to my Father since I was eighteen and until this past Wednesday last spoke to my Mother over two years ago. Before that, I think I had gone five to seven years without speaking to her. Some people don’t get it, but Shannon and Kaplan, after witnessing the rare public outburst, realize why I don’t have any desire to be a part of what most people would consider a “normal” family.

That being said, I love my two sisters and grandparents dearly. My Grandmother died roughly twenty years ago and my Grandfather has long been the rock of the family. He’s approaching ninety and over the last ten years has begun battling very health issues. Those unfortunately have taken a turn for the worse as of late and quite frankly, I expect him to die shortly.

Due to my family circumstances, I haven’t seen my Grandfather over the last two years and it was with much trepidation that I journeyed to Clearwater to see him on Wednesday.

Personally, despite being warned by my sisters, I was not prepared for how he looked. I had to walk into the bathroom within a few moments of my arrival to regain my composure. This was something I had to do several times during the day.

I believe the most disturbing part of the visit for me wasn’t his physical issues but for the first time ever, my Grandfather didn’t display a sense of humor…and God knows that side of the family is where it came from.

We spent a little time eating and a little time talking. We sat on the porch out front and my sister Kim and I took him for a walk around the block in his wheelchair. We sat on the porch for a little bit longer listening to a baseball game. Despite his physical discomfort, my Grandfather’s mind was still sharp for the most part as he followed the game, making comments about players and people. He began to get sleepy and it was time to put him to bed and for me to say goodbye.

To understand this next part, you have to realize the influence my Grandfather and Grandmother have had on my life. I was the first Grandchild in the family and quite frankly they spoiled me rotten. They both have always believed in me and it hurts to know that both will not be around when I “make it” to my satisfaction.

I can count the times on one hand I’ve seen my Grandfather raise his voice in my life. He has been my idol and inspiration on how to be a husband, father, and man my entire life. As he lay in bed and I held his hand, I was finally able to tell him this. I was able to gain a bit of closure and peace for myself as after twenty years I was finally about to tell him how much my Grandmother had meant to me and that all I wanted was for him to know that all I ever wanted to do was to make them proud. I was able to tell him I loved him.

Quite frankly, I lost it for a few moments and finally said goodbye.

It hurts to know that he will never likely meet the woman I marry or see his great-Grandchildren (yea…I know it is a stretch that I will find a woman to marry me much less allow me to impregnate her but here’s to luck). I know I’ve missed out on a lot due our family issues. Yet, despite this, after vocalizing my feelings, a bit of balance was restored into my life. I know I’ll be emotional and probably cry some over the next few weeks, but I have a sense of peace for myself.

It’s time for him to go now and I’m thankful I had the chance to say what I needed to.