I lost my grandfather today

i never tell thIS story...

I had a strong man in my life....a war hero....a man who at 19 was thrown from the warship Arizona during the Pearl Harbor attack...and broke his leg.....A short, VERY goodlooking guy....A man who dealt with demons associated with that day....A man who while living through a streak of anger, emerged as the calm Farmer and roadworker that was Matthew Mroczka Sr.....my namesake....

He died peacefully today. He got quieter. He made his choices. He fell asleep. He passed on.

I was on my way home to say goodbye to him, as I visit so little these years. And an hour into my trip I found out he had died. My Gramma (one of the pillars of my life) cried to me on the phone about how she left him for 2 minutes and "he was gone". "Matthew I didn't know hard this would be, " she said.

My guilt for being so distant welled up....and then I realized that Grampa was the kind of man that existed 70 years ago. He was a quiet guy that had gone so far at such a young life, that he had no need to bitch and complain later in life....like I do. He frowned on guilt in a way. It wasn't like him. He would tell me to let it go.

At 27 he married Katherine Parks, bought a farm house and 60 acres for $3000 and began a life, and raised 4 children.

No life is perfect and I am sure their's had bumps, but on the phone tonight, was a woman in her late 80s crying for the loss of her love of 62 years. Bumps aside, it's who cries for you when you leave life that means the most. And I hope to have someone like her crying for me in so many years.

Right after 9/11 I had a conversation with my grandfather about having seen it, feeling on edge, constantly getting anxiety attacks.....He told me about Pearl Harbor, almost whispering like it was a secret, and how it wouldn't go away soon. "That feeling will be with you forever" he said.

That December of 2001, he gave his first interview to a local paper, talking about Pearl Harbor. It was the 60th anniversary. He had never really talked about it before.

Now he is gone...moved on. But he's left a wide legacy. And I miss him....I miss a man who would always ask about my mom (she and dad divorced quickly...they were young), tell me to say hi from him, and then, knowing we weren't financially sound, tuck a $20 in my pocket every Sunday.

He always took me aside, asked how I was doing, handed me a $20 again, and never made judgments about my choices....even when I was bartending on Cape Cod to make ends meet.

It was hard to hug him.....He always wore sweater vests for some reason.....and I used to blame it on that....that if I hugged him hard enough, the sweater would itch...

But he hugged me lightly....he connected with me.....I know he loved me. I loved him......but he was an old school guy....he would never say the "L" word....and I understand.....TRUST me, I understand....

Goodbye Matty.....We will miss you......