Dear Grandpa,
I know this entry seems early. In some ways, it is. It is early in that it’s not Father’s Day, but it is also early in that I am writing this on May 4th so that it will post on May 5th.
May 5th is on a Monday this year, and Mondays are normally the busiest day in my profession.
Jazz suggested I do a May 5th entry since I did one earlier this year on the day of Grandma’s passing.
No worries … it won’t become a habit.
I don’t like to think of that day ever.
Not of your passing, per se, but the chaos leading up to it. At least how it was conveyed to me by Grandma.
Okay, albeit reluctantly, I think it's time I unpack this. Perhaps I should have resumed my therapy sessions on how to navigate an event that I buried so deeply that it's easy to Jedi mind trick myself into its nonexistence.
Yet, to make it nonexistent would mean you'd physically still be here.
It was 2011. M and I had been in a relationship ... gosh, how long had it been at that point? I'll just say that we had made over a year.
After losing my full-time job in early 2010, M did his best to keep things afloat. At one point, he was working two jobs. Eventually, he lost both, but didn't have the "gumption" (as you'd call it) to look for more work.
The polishing of his resume ... me.
The searching for jobs that would fit his limited skill set ... me.
Actually applying for the jobs ... me.
Sure, I had received unemployment, and the amount received made due for the moment. However, there's always pressure to get employment because "they" don't want you on unemployment forever. Goodness knows I didn't want to be on it forever, either.
Initially, I stayed the course and pursued careers in my majors. I would get the first interview, and with some, the second interview ... only to be rejected.
At one of the One Stop meetings, I was told that the reason I wasn't getting hired was that I had too much on my resume. When I asked for clarification, I was told that I needed to "dumb it down" and that presenting my "awards and both of my degrees made me look overqualified for any position." The person was probably saying it to increase my chances of getting off unemployment quicker. Yet being told to dim my professional light, after working so hard to achieve it, angered me.
Unfortunately, after a year of being strategic, the pressure was on: find work or be cut off.
M got odd jobs here and there, but was doing stupid things (stealing food, having attitude with bosses, etc.) that would get him fired.
On the month of your passing, I was just hired under a temporary assignment. It was the 3rd day of the assignment when I received the call from Grandma. The anguish in her voice was palpable. Being in proximity, but was unable to say goodbye. Those final moments ... being taken away from her.
I know Grandma never got past the trauma.
Although the company was sympathetic to the tragedy, they could not hold the position for me if I decided to leave. The decision was a no-brainer.
M wanted to make the journey, but someone had to stay behind to see about things. I made the long trip alone, praying for protection the whole way.
Grandma and I were each other's strength. I did what I could to help with what I could. There were so many moments where I wanted to cry, but I was so busy being the anchor to others. Unfortunately, that meant being that to the one individual who caused the most tumult.
Grandpa, imagine the scene. Grandma is on one side; my mom is on the other. Holding the hand of one while the other one was clinging to me as if the floor was going to swallow her. Told by other family members to stay strong as they broke into hysterics.
"Being strong" started feeling like a punishment. If anyone had the right to shatter, it was me. You were the only father I knew, and you were gone. I didn't get a chance to take that final trip due to the demands of the very job that cared nothing about me.
I found solace in my closest friend. He passed some time ago, but I will always be thankful to him for being the quiet amidst all of the noise.
When I returned to New Jersey, I did not have the opportunity to unpack my emotions. I trekked through financial ebbs and flows ... as did M.
I don't want to focus too much on M, but I will say that he did not keep the promise he made to you when he saw you. I would have left eventually, but the presence of Jazz and Gino somehow accelerated events.
I still joke that you are my good luck charm. 😊
It was on your birthday in 2012 that I started as a temporary worker at the organization where I eventually became permanent. Sure, at a few points while being a temp, I worked another job. Heck, even after being brought on permanently.
The toughest part was during the pandemic when our organization got hit with the furlough. Fortunately, I was one of the people that was deemed essential, so I was still able to work three days a week and put in for unemployment to fill in the loss of income. Some people were laid off completely until the furlough was over.
Admittedly, having a hybrid schedule suits someone like me. I like the quiet of working from home and not having to fight the morning traffic two days a week. It's not that I'm incapable of being in a busy setting. I've done it for a good portion of my professional career. Dealing with different energies and personalities gets exhausting. Thank goodness for headphones.
As far as the side jobs...
I was okay with doing the grocery deliveries ... perhaps it reminds me of the days when I was a cashier at Piggly Wiggly. Yet, that dried up because so many people were doing that to supplement their income.
Amazon Flex was beneficial because you could choose which shift you wanted to work, and they'd usually be in four-hour blocks. The downside is that you weren't told ahead of time which area you'd go to until after you scanned all of the packages. Also, you had to deliver them within a certain time to get a good standing.
Driving, especially with your own vehicle, can take a toll. I did stop because it was a bit much. I was doing that while working overtime at my primary hustle. It was not a good work-life balance, but it was necessary because of the crisis.
The side hustle I have now is something I've always been doing. The only difference is that I get paid for it. Currently, it's ten hours a week, but it doesn't interfere with my hybrid schedule.
Even with all the curveballs, I feel at ease. At least as much as a future-looking, schedule-planning, overthinker like me can be. It's important to have people around you who are like you in some ways, but differ just enough to provide equilibrium.
Whether she realizes it or not, Jazz provides that balance. She likes to talk (at least to me ... people have been getting on her nerves as of late), and I've always been a listener. It helps that she is interested in what I have to say and that she gets my sense of humor.
There are moments when I wish I'd met her earlier in life, but I am not sure we would have appreciated each other. Or, if we had grown enough as people, if the timeline had been accelerated. I believe we met each other exactly when we were meant to meet.
I did not get the chance to be a mother in a traditional sense. There was a mourning once my marriage ended. I would have felt worse if I had created life only for the person who created it with me to leave. I thought about finding alternate means, but on this subject, I'm too much of a traditionalist.
For me, being an aunt to Gino is close enough. He accidentally referred to me as Mother in response to a text and didn't go back to autocorrect. Not sure if it's a coincidence, but it isn't the first time it's happened.
I know you're curious, but honestly, I am not sure where my relationship with Mom stands.
When I let everything go, that was the truth. It takes two people. I gave her my number; she doesn't use it. She likes being on Facebook; I'm rarely on there.
What she desires from me is unrealistic: for us to bond the way I longed for when I was little. She was too jealous of the bond I had with Grandma and you, putting me in a position where I had to "choose". There should have been no "choice". There's no such thing as a child having too much love and support.
She wants to recreate the past; I'm not interested in that. I just want us to be in a place where we can be civil and kind to each other as people, as women. Then, we can work on the other stuff. That's a practical, achievable starting point for me.
You know what they say about leading horses to water.
Yes, I'm switching topics because I don't want to speak about her anymore.
Do you know it's rare to find yellow meat watermelon up North?
Jazz and I were in ShopRite (I guess the closest equivalent in the South is Kroger), and I saw some slices. A gentleman was looking at them, and we struck up a conversation. A lady near us said she had never seen them before. He asked me if there was a greater benefit of eating yellow meat watermelon vs red meat watermelon. I didn't know. I just remember the joy you had growing them. The delight when you took the brown wooden-handled knife and cut it open. Shaking the salt on top of them. Spitting the seeds out on the side of the foil pan, which held the gourd.
I didn't tell the man that. I just said I didn't know. He told me to Google these things. I knew he was joshing.
I don't think the man knew that I am older than Google. Even older than WiFi.
Yeah, I think this is a good place to end.
Catch you on Father's Day.
Love you.
❤
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