If we’re friends on FB or you follow me on Social Media you’ve probably seen this has been a pretty rough few days. We lost my Vovo (Portuguese for Grandfather) early Friday morning. He was 91 and literally the strongest man I have ever met - mentally AND physically.
It’s funny to write that because if you saw him in his glory days back in the Navy or on the Peabody Police Department he was about 110lbs dripping wet. He was retired from the PD before I was born and luckily for me that means I spent a LOT of time growing up with him and my grandmother - they helped in every way possible (while my parents were doing the parent shuffle thing between jobs and life things).
Recent events have stirred up random memories like how my grandmother had the SOFTEST skin in the entire world and that she made the BEST salad dressing ever. Or that my grandfather had this TALENT for finding the “draftiest” seat in every restaurant or that he would give me a TON of snacks while we watched 227 every Saturday night on my weekly sleepover. He also LOVED giving me $1 bills. Somehow Em managed to get $5s - not sure how that happened…
My grandparents bickered (obviously they’re human) but the re-occuring theme when I think of them is love. ESPECIALLY for each other. If you’ve ever met them they were ALWAYS together. They have this small house - you know the kind where you’re ALWAYS on top of somebody, when they went out, they went out together, they traveled the world when they could still get around easily...they were married for SEVENTY years. Seventy - It’s mind blowing really.
My Vo was literally the Bionic Man - he has had numerous back surgeries, knee and hip replacements, had this little wobble because being the PROUDEST man on the planet means you’re too good for canes and walkers. As the years passed my grandmother developed early stages of dementia. If you’re familiar with the disease it ebbs and flows. Some days you can’t tell anything is wrong, others she’s unsure of where she is or who we even are.
He didn’t waver. His love almost got STRONGER. He provided, he cooked, he comforted and regardless of what ailments he had, he NEVER let on to anything begin too much for him.
They were living alone in their house together. They had their routines and I just loved visiting them and bringing the kids. They would put on a show and we would laugh. We were there as recently as a few days before he was diagnosed with acute renal failure. Just a few days before his body would slowly shut down he was moving around with enough agility to literally catch crazy man Cullen when he tripped and fell. He attended his Veteran’s breakfast at the Portuguese Club (his second home). These things give me peace - he spent his last few days doing his FAVORITE things.
I’m not sure if he was feeling “off” for awhile and I never will BUT the fact he continued to care for my grandmother, never really complained and kept it business as usual is a level of strength and humility I can only attempt to understand.
If you’re still reading - this is where my mind went while he was in hospice. I was sitting with this man, this strong man who could NEVER stop moving and puttering with things around the house, unable to move.
My workouts have ALWAYS been my therapy - I am a dangerous person when I don't workout. I need the endorphins flowing to be the best me I can. During this time I started a new program inspired by MMA - it's similar to kickboxing - and I truly believe things happen for a reason and sometimes stars really do align.
Without really consciously realizing it - my punches and kicks got more intense. I was ANGRY. I was FRUSTRATED.
I genuinely think I was moving for him because he couldn’t. Does this sound as cheesy as it feels? I don't care. I FELT him through my workouts recently. If that's what is going to happen I'll do this program forever.
I had NO idea punching the air would be so therapeutic but I am so grateful for this release to keep my head on straight. Loss is never easy. Loss while trying to play the role of granddaughter, daughter, mom and wife is exhausting. But right now it’s not about me - it’s about honoring a man who helped shape me into the person I am today. A person who loved me unconditionally and showed me family first always.
I was SO lucky.