What’s been happening…

Hey, world!

First off, if this is importing in my tumblr blog, than sorry dudes, you already know ’bout this. Not every detail that I’m going to mention, but it’s probably going to be boring for you. You’ve been warned.

So…my grandpa died. Not the one that I’ve talked about once on here (my dad’s dad), it’s my mother’s father. Since he was a real person and he’s dead and if wasn’t for him, to create my mom, I wouldn’t be here now, I decided I’m going to share with you the brightest moments I have with him:

The first one was, when I was going to his birthday (september 9-th) about 10 or 12 years ago. He was eager to explain some physics shit to me (cause he was an inventor first working for the Soviet union and then for NASA, so physics was kinda his job), of course I was not interested, I was a kid, I wanted to play with toys. He got mad at my mom for raising an ignorant child and he was ashamed of me being his granddaughter, so he took this accordion and he gave it to me “to practice my talent”. That was the smartest move I’ve ever seen anyone do. He was getting some sort of a twisted revenge on my mother, cause I was CONSTANTLY playing this bloody instrument and I didn’t know a single melody, so it was pretty random and I remember my mom giving me money to stop playing.

I also remember him teaching me how to chop onions and marinate steaks, when I couldn’t even hold a knife properly. I still have a scar on my thumb and his excuse was “You can never start teaching them too early.”

Or that time, when he showed me his telescope. Do you know where he pointed it at? The airport (a specific airplane if we have to be exact). He looked though it and said to me “Bingo! This was just what I was hoping to show you! Have a look.” And I did. And I saw a pilot and a stewardess having sex. I was 5 and a half.

Or should I mention the time, when he was complaining how all he ever wanted was for his family to be thin and now he’s surrounded by cows.

Oh, wait, I also remember the 1-st day, when Alex (my cousin) was born. Grandpa went to him and do you know what his first words were? “Why is his penis so small? That’s not from me.” OKAY, I didn’t realize Alex wasn’t a NEW BORN baby.

I also remember the last time I spoke to him. He called to ask me if I want to go with him to the forest to recruit peonies. He fucking loved those flowers. EVERY single year he would go to the forest and collect as many peonies as he could carry. The last time he asked me I said no, because honestly, he was going to rant to me about something that I’m not good at. And sorry, but hell no, there was no way that this was going to happen. But now I feel kinda guilty, cause I could’ve gone, but didn’t. And now he’s dead and we can’t go anymore.

And to be honest, he rarely thought of me. He never knew how old I was or which grade I am or when was I born. He never asked how I was doing and every time (almost) were meeting each other, it was obligatory for him. Therefore, as you can imagine, I won’t miss him that much. I’m not happy about him dying, but it’s not like I’m going to be miserable for the rest of my life. I mean, I barely even knew the man. And yeah…

So here comes the awkward part. Today at the funeral I was lined up with his close relatives, a.k.a his four children (without aunt Mina, who’s in Dubai and couldn’t come), me (as his first granddaughter), his second wife (not my grandma, she’s his 1-st wife of which she has 3 girls as an offspring) and his sister. So we were what, 7 people? His loved ones…? SOOOOOOOO

We were in the ceremony room and there was this fucking depressing music and this blond lady, who started talking stuff about heaven and how he is now in a better place (they said that bullshit, even though he wasn’t religious, but whatever) and we were separate from the others, sitting just by the coffin and EVERYONE except me were crying. At that moment I didn’t feel sad for grandpa as much as I felt guilty for not being able to cry. I couldn’t help, but notice weird looks from the kind “That heartless bitch, doesn’t mourn her own grandfather”. And even worse, we (the 7 people) had to go to the coffin and say our last goodbye with the man in front of all the others. AWKWARD. I went last, as I wanted to procrastinate as much as possible, but when I went to him…he really looked like shit. Damn! I was avoiding getting a better look at him as I didn’t want to have nightmares, but I had no choice. He wasn’t one of the prettiest guys on the planet as he was alive, today he was just…really ugly. I’m sorry, I realize I shouldn’t say this, the man is dead and I should at least pay him som respect, which I AM doing…just in my own way. And what’s so bad about being honest about what you think? I’m not being awful, right? RIGHT?

Anyway, after I went on with the ton of crap about how wonderful he has been throughout his whole life, I said those stories you read a minute ago (those are actually the best of the best, sorry)…no one laughed as they were supposed to, so I looked at my mom and she had that look on her face, basically saying “Just stop talking.” and I did. And then each and every one of the 50 people attending the funeral came to us (the closest ones) to shake our hands and offer us their condolences. It was tiring, especially, when I didn’t think I deserved to be where I was…and half of those people thought that about me, too!

And you know what? The WEIRDEST part is that almost everyone were a part of the family and I can solemnly swear to you guys, I’ve NEVER seen them. EVER. I didn’t even know grandpa had any relatives, who are alive and it turns out he had a sister. WHAT? And apparently I have 5 second cousins that I know nothing of. And I have like 10 aunts and uncles that I’ve never seen before. I didn’t even know they existed. As you can imagine, I couldn’t keep up with the speed of which I was getting to know my family, so I only remembered like 20 names. I knew only 5 people from this funeral: my mom, grandpa’s second wife, aunt Lora, aunt Veneta and uncle Peter and I was supposed to know like everyone, but whatever. 😀 I’m cool like that.

And that was it, ladies and gentlemen. I’m now with only one alive grandpa. Oh, well!

//Stef – Rest in peace, grandpa Vulko! 🙂

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