Bus stop…

"Putting miles in your training log is like putting money in the bank. You begin to draw interest on it immediately." HAL HIGDON

Why do I feel like I am doing this all over again?

Uh…de ja vu…

Last night I had seen my grandfather who currently does not look good. I am fearful to say that I am very glad that he is a wonderful man and the smile that I always show on my face is the one that he always has on his. I have never seen my grandfather so scared in his life. I have never seen my grandfather cry. It was a first for many last night and in front of his eyes I could not cry. I was not prepared as much as I thought that I should have been and could not believe how much he has aged from a week ago. I had seen him after my race while I was in Newport and my cousin had picked me up after the race and my grandfather was his jolly good self. He voiced to us about moving his plants out of the sunlight and he was so concerned about his plants and flowers. I honor the man. I honor my other grandfather who had recently passed away two years ago as well…from again Cancer.

I slowly take my hand away from my grandfathers and go to look for my cousin. I turn the corner and tears are wallowing in my eyes. I walk over and down the hallway and stare out the window to only find emptiness and just letting all my emotions go. E had told me to prepare myself and I was not prepared for what I had seen. Pean had told me not to cry in front of my grandfather and I sort of didn’t. I couldn’t believe that I was here and at this time, my grandfather was the stronger one and it just happened so sudden and all so fast.

I walk back after wallowing in my sorrows, and found E with some food. He knew that I was not ready and saw though my blood shot eyes. I stayed a while and then had to go. I held onto my grandfather’s hand and it felt good to just hold on. That sense of security is just there, but the smile and happiness that I have is always through him and some of that stubbornness that I have as well comes with the genes. My grandfather is as stong as an ox and really takes in the pain. In some ways I would believe that I get the qualities of knowing how to cook through both of my grandfather’s since both of them were chefs.

My father drove me back to the bus station and I let a little go as I ride all the way home to NYC.

But today, I’m on my ways back to Jersey for the weekend. Instead of a bus towards Boston (which I was suppose to have a good time with my high school friends: AD, TJL and SC) I find myself on a bus now to Jersey again for the second time in two days. I will be spending time in Jersey all weekend. May my grandfather be in your prayers tonight.

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