Amazing Grace...

I went to a funeral today. I should have been upset to some degree but I wasn't.

My mom's step-dad died.

I haven't really seen him for forever. He was sick for a long time before he passed.

I'm not really sure how I feel about it all. It's strange because I remember him and his laugh from when I was younger. I always thought he was funny. But my mom kept us away from him as much as she could. So, in the end, I didn't really know him. I went to the funeral to support my aunts and uncles and some of my cousins that I actually know.

It was weird. When I got to the church, the guy directing the cars asked me if I was a relative or friend. I told the guy that Ramon was my mom's step-dad. He spoke into his walkie-talkie and told the person on the other end that he was sending over a grand-child.

I don't consider Ramon as my grandfather. I always called him Ramon. Mom always called him Ramon. I felt like I was being deceptive by letting the guy think I was a grand-child. During the service, it was said that he had 27 grand-children and 50 great grand-children. I thought...holy cow, that's amazing. It wasn't until later that I found out that I was included in that number. It took me off guard because yet again, I don't consider myself as his grand-child.

It's a rather sticky situation when it comes to my mother's father. My mom's dad left my grandma when mom was really little and never looked back. My grandma married Ramon back in 1950 something and had 7 children with him. (My mom has 10 brothers and sisters.) My grandma died in 1975, I think. At that point, we weren't living near anyone so we rarely saw Ramon or my mom's family. And when we did come, it was always a bit awkward for my mom. Then once all her siblings got married, we visited more.

I've only met my mom's dad a couple of times. The first time was when I was around 6 or 7. I remember Derrick was still potty-training so I'm pretty sure it was around that time. My mom's dad's name is Pete. Well, I think that's what he goes by because I keep thinking that my Uncle Frank was a junior. Anywho...when I first met my mom's dad, I thought he looked like the devil. Not only did I think he looked like the devil, I thought he WAS the devil.

I know, it's a very childish thought. But I was seriously terrified of him!! He was EXACTLY what I knew the devil to look like. I didn't want to come out of my room because I was so scared. My mom got really ticked because I didn't want to go to him. I couldn't understand why my mom wanted me to go give the devil a hug and a kiss. (I thought my mom knew he was the devil and didn't care.) My mom made me sit on his lap and give him a hug and kiss. I was traumatized. I mean seriously scarred. It was the worst betrayal I could ever have dreamed.

Later....much later...my parents were living in Laredo, TX and I came home to visit and he was there. I avoided him as best I could. He just gave me the creeps. I couldn't understand why my mom wanted a relationship with him. (She had always dreamed of having a relationship with her father and it finally started to happen.) LOL...even in my twenty-something mind, I still saw him as the devil.

Heck, even now...my sister invited me to go to Grandpa Pete's birthday party back in February. I was confused and asked who is Grandpa Pete. She answered, your grandfather, mom's dad. I said...Oh, he's just mom's dad to me. I don't consider him my grandpa. I still get creeped out by him....AND I'M 40 now!! I know, I know. I'm being irrational. I KNOW THIS. But that childhood trauma seriously scarred me.

As I was sitting there today listening to the words of the pastor, I start to feel a little left out. Because I didn't really have a grandpa. Not on my mom's side. I felt like it wasn't fair that Ramon wasn't able to be my grandpa. I did really like him. I really did miss out.

I don't remember my mom's mom all that well anymore. I have two very different memories of her. One of her being rather robust and when she would hug us, it hurt because she always squeezed too tight. And her pats on our butts always felt like she was spanking us. But I remember her smile and that I knew she loved me. The other memory is of her sitting in a rocking chair barely able to lift her head. She was literally skin and bones. The cancer had ravaged her and she looked so sad and so tired. It's hard to get that image out of my head. Mostly because it's such a sharp contrast to the woman/grandma that she was.

And now, Ramon has passed and I don't really have any memories of him. I'll always remember his smile and laugh and his hair. It always reminded me of Elvis.

How sad that when my mom's dad passes, I'll probably go to the funeral. Not because I have any emotional attachment to the man but because it will be hard on my mom and she'll need me there. I don't feel bad for the lack of attachment. I feel bad because my mom would love for me to have it and that I don't want it.

Ramon was buried next to my grandma, Olivia. I thought that was sweet. They are buried in the same cemetary as my Grandma and Grandpa Campos. It's weird that I put Campos after that because they were the only Grandma and Grandpa that I really had. My Grandpa died a very long time ago but I spent so much time with him when I was little that I have a ton of memories of him. My Grandma died in 1992, I think. I have a bazillion great memories of her. She was one funny lady!!

I guess I just wish I had the same kind of memories of grandparents from my mom's side of the family. I feel like I've been jipped. (sp?) But better to have some memories than none at all!!

Here's to the comfort of knowing that I will see them all again when I've crossed over the veil. And here's to getting to know them when we meet again.