To Have Loved and Lost…

college

They say it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all; my battered heart begs to differ sometimes… Love. It’s such a wonderfully terrible necessity of life. Before we begin, I want to announce now that this is not a ranty post about how sucky love is (false) or the stupidity of boys (true), but in its truest form, this post is just me talking to┬ásomeone I loved dearly. Someone who not only impacted my life, but who has shaped who I have become…

Two days ago, you would’ve been 89…

Two weeks ago, the family would’ve called one another frantically to talk about what to do for you, or what to get you. They would’ve bickered constantly about the time, place, and especially about what food to cook. Arguments would’ve inevitably sprung up, and eventually you would be called in to bring the peace, like you did so many times before.

One week ago, the final plans would be made. Feelings would be hurt, food and cooks would be selected, a place would be booked, and friends would be invited. Then I would call you, hear your gruff hello, say, “Hi Papou”, and you would say, “Hi baby!”. Then we would chat about school, and work, and the weather. I’d ask you what you wanted for your birthday, and you would most likely reply with, “I don’t know, just not shirts or socks!” After, I would apologize profusely for not being able to be home until Greek Easter, to which you’d say, “That’s ok baby, you’re doing good in your school, just focus on that and don’t stress too much.” Then we’d say I love you’s and goodbye’s and hang up.

One day ago, I’d be feeling guilty for not being there because how many birthdays do you have left? I’d hear all about the fights, food, gifts, and just plain gossip. I’d call to make sure you had a good day and that you got my gift. I’d try and get you to work FaceTime, but that would be a fail, and then we’d just give up and promise to talk again soon.

Today, I am sad. I’m sad because none of those things happened. There were no failed FaceTime attempts, no gifts lost in the mail, no food or fights, no planning or bickering, and you didn’t turn 89, at least not here with us. Not with me. No, we said our goodbyes 7 months ago… At least I know that our final words were, “I love you.”

So is it really better to have loved and lost? Most days I would say yes, because without those memories–without you–I wouldn’t be me. But some days, like today, I just miss you–and it hurts like hell.

Two days ago, you would’ve been 89…