Pappy’s Last Lesson
What I Learned Through My Grandfather’s Death

Illustration by Jasmine Gallman and Lauren Phillips| VOX Staff

By Lauren Phillips| VOX Staff

On June 29 this summer, my grandfather was found in his bed asleep for eternity. At the time of his death, I had not talked to Pappy for six years because I was holding a grudge against him for a mistake he made. I never got the chance to say “I’m sorry.” The guilt I feel will probably never go away.

The last time I saw Pappy was three or four years ago when he came to visit us from Florida, and he stayed at our house for a couple of days. I avoided him the entire time by going out with friends or staying in another room. When he left, I didn’t even give him a hug goodbye. I refused to tell him I loved him. I wanted him to do something to fix the festering wound that was hurting in my heart, but he didn’t. So when he left, I cried because I couldn’t seem to forgive him. The thought of letting it go was just so far out of reach.

When I was 12 years old, my grandfather made a mistake in what I consider a weak point in his life. He deceived me, and it pierced my heart deeper than anything I had ever felt before. His actions made me feel angry toward him for many years. So I cut all ties to him and ignored his phone calls from that time on. Whenever Pappy called, I stood in front of my mom shaking my head, silently begging her not to give me the phone. It was always the same thing: “Oh, sorry daddy, but Lauren’s not home” or “Lauren’s doing something right now. She’ll talk to you next time.” That time never came.

The truth is, I wasn't eager to mend our torn relationship. I didn’t care whether he knew I wasn’t talking to him. Anger and disappointment veiled my eyes; I couldn’t see that Pappy cared about me. As I look back, I realize he was the only grandfather I had who ever took time to be a part of my life. Yet after the deception, I couldn’t bear the thought of being around him.

Our Time at the Lake
Pappy was a sturdy figure in my life when I was younger. I depended on him, and he never let me down. He taught me how to multiply in first grade, how to fish in second grade, and showed me a few things about life that were conveniently left out of textbooks. He instilled in me the strength and courage to face my future and achieve anything I put my mind to.

Up until I was 12 years old, my family took annual vacations to Florida where Pappy lived. My days were filled with new adventures while I bravely played with the baby crocodiles that swam next to the dock on the lake where Pappy taught me great lessons about fishing. He spent hours showing me how to catch and clean catfish. Pappy always gave me praise, even for the little things. It made me feel like I could do anything. The day I had to go home snuck up on me every time, and the sting from the realization that it would be a year before I saw him again was unbearable.

Breaking the Silence
At the time of my grandfather's death, I was safe in my sheltered world of high school where my biggest worries were why my boyfriend didn’t call me and how I was going to bring up my grade in Literature class. Then my life shattered to pieces when my sister came running into my room crying and told me the horrific news about my grandfather’s sudden and tragic death.

I was in total shock. I cried so hard my eyes were swollen shut the next day. The world instantly lost its brightness. Nothing I did eased the guilt. There was this huge emptiness in the pit of my stomach, and it sometimes burned when I thought of all the horrible things I said about him and all the great memories I missed out on during the long silence between us.

Weeks before his death, my mother told me about the conversations she’d had with Pappy. He told her he had bought an extra bed so I could visit him. He wanted us to spend quality time together before I went away to college. I was reluctant at first but then that spark of hope in me reared its head and I was back to holding my breath waiting for the day I could sit on the dock with him and everything would be the same.

It had been so long since I’d had any conversation with Pappy that it felt unnatural to pick up the phone to just say “Hi.” It was more natural to walk away when he called. Still, every time he called, a little spark of hope glimmered in my eyes as I held my breath, hoping he had found some remarkable way to apologize to me, but that never happened. When he died, I tried to stay strong because my mother was a complete wreck, and I felt like it was my duty to hold everyone together.

Finding Peace Again
I put on a pretty good façade for a while — that is until we went to Florida for his wake. We took the long trip down in my mom’s Yukon. It was the worst car ride I’ve ever had. I was forced to sit there and remember every moment I had spent with my grandfather. It was torture. When we finally arrived and got situated, we went to the lake where Pappy and I used to hang out. It had been six years since I was last there and everything seemed much smaller to me. There was this indescribable feeling, this powerful sense of serenity that overcame me. As I stood at the end of the dock and felt the wind brush against my cheeks, all the memories of my childhood in that very spot flowed through my head. I was at complete peace standing there. It felt like I was finally home. That’s when I realized just how close I was to my grandfather in that place.

Pappy’s death taught me to appreciate living. I have never been one to understand the precious value of life. I assumed those I love would always be here. The concept of death was always clear to me, but the possibility of losing anyone I cared about was next to impossible. As I got older, I began to understand that death wasn’t so impossible. Yet, facing that reality was too much to think about — until my worst fear formed right before my eyes. And it was too late.

My grandfather will remain in my memory for the rest of my life. I will always remember him as the person who taught me my most important lesson: to not hold a grudge because the only time promised to us is now.

Lauren is a senior at Tri-Cities High.