On the day PawPaw passed away we all gathered at mawmaw and pawpaw's house.
It was so surreal.
Walking into the house with all of his stuff placed exactly where he left it. Even his pipe, with his ashes sat beside his chair, in his room that over looked the farm.
Mawmaw asked me to get the keys from Pawpaw's truck. I remember climbing into the truck thinking "this isn't real. This is some sick joke they are playing on me. This is a dream." I sat in the truck, smelling his smell, looking at all of his stuff.
When I finally found the keys and started to head back into the house, I heard the tractor. I looked over on the farm to see Pawpaw's big green john deer rolling up and down the field.
"THERE HE IS!"
My heart started to pound.
Then it sank.
"it's not him."
When the farmer dies the farm still has to be worked.
Mawmaw had hired someone to come help with the farm.
Tomorrow, Thursday April 21, 2011, my Pawpaw's big green tractor goes up for auction, along with all of his other farm equipment.
I feel like someone is pouring vinegar in my wound that was just starting to heal.
He died a little over 3 years ago.
It was sudden.
One minute he was there and the next he was gone.
Mom called to tell me that Pawpaw had went to the hospital but that he was fine and not to bother coming down.
The next call I got was "Jessica, you're Pawpaw didn't make it."
I wasn't there. My Pawpaw died and I wasn't there.
I wasn't there.
I wasn't there.
I have found comfort in being surround by his stuff. I remember walking into Mawmaw's house and being so upset that she had cleaned out his closet, cleaned up his pipe, his glasses, his spilt tobacco ashes.
Now his stuff is being sold at action. Not just his stuff but his farm stuff. The stuff he used to work the farm that he worked SO HARD to get.
A part of me wants to go to the auction. To say a farewell to all the STUFF.
But I really don't think I could handle watching it go. It is like someone is ripping a vital organ from my body. I would make a foul of myself.
I'm making a foul of myself just typing this.
A friend told me "Jess, a death like that is not something you just get over. It is something that you have to deal with every day."