Advice from a Nonagenarian

The past few weeks have been extremely hard. I have buried myself in work because after a month of family being in town, I was/am extremely behind. The problem is that I haven't really acknowledged my loss and anytime I think of my grandfather, the tears come full force.

The problem really lies in the fact that I haven't gone home. I have not had to face the reality of the situation that my grandfather is no longer here. If I put it out of my mind long enough, it's like it isn't real. Although my new job told me I get bereavement leave (the first question I asked prior to accepting the job offer), I really don't get time off to mourn. At least, not without cancelling and making up those classes in the future. My family scheduled my grandad's ceremony of life for November 9th and I have made the difficult decision to not attend. The idea of spending 40 hours travelling alone, just to be home for 2 days of heartache, is not the most appealing. I would do it in a heartbeat if it meant getting to see my grandad for one more day, but the alternative means I would be that sad girl crying on the plane for 13 hours. I have decided that I will go somewhere over winter vacation and take the time I need to mourn, since bottling it up is not working so well for me.

Today I mailed my goodbye letter to my grandad. I literally cried at the postoffice because 1. the purpose of the letter already meant I was emotional, and 2. the lady asked me too many questions. I just wanted to walk in, mail it, and get out, but nothing is ever that easy in Korea.

I recently collected all the photographs I had of my grandfather on my computer and sent them to my aunt who is putting together a memorial DVD. It was hard. My grandparents were such a big part of my life. They were present for every important event; every graduation, every birthday, every Christmas, you name it. We spent all our vacations/long weekends in Ottawa at their house. I'm one of the fortunate people who can say that I really knew my grandparents, but also one of the unfortunate ones who has to go through losing two people that meant the world to me.

Among the photos was a video I took of my grandfather earlier this year, on his 90th birthday. I asked him what advice he has for people who would like to live to 90. I have watched this video many times this week. Hearing his calm, casual voice and seeing that cheeky smile have not necessarily brought me comfort, but a sense of nostalgia. We always wish for more time once all the time has passed. Life is precious, and fragile, and we need to make the most of it while we still have the time.

James Albert Soles

January 11, 1923 - September 9, 2013