Well, to be fair, I've been back in town since late Friday night. My wife and I went over to Grand Junction caravan-style, following my mom, dad and sister on Thursday morning. My grandfather's funeral was 9:30 Friday morning at the Koinonia church, a church which my grandfather built and that my mom and dad were married in. Given all of what has transpired in the last week, I was up and down emotionally (mostly down) all weekend but I know that I need to get "back in the swing of things" eventually. My parents and my sister stayed in Grand Junction until yesterday but my wife and I left Friday afternoon for two reasons...One was that the weather was slated to only get worse as the weekend wore on and the second was, frankly, that I could barely stand to be in my grandparents' house knowing that my grandfather was gone...It was hard for me to see him in his casket...It was hard for me as a pallbearer knowing that he was in the casket as my cousins and I carried him to his grave...It was very hard being around so much family and realizing that he was not going to come walking in at any minute...I simply could not stand it...

The service at the church was a good one, I almost forgot that my grandfather was gone as I listened to family and friends recount stories of him...While I refrained from sharing any stories (and I have many), they affirmed something which I had always assumed: you'd have to look long and hard and you'd still likely not find anyone who disliked my grandfather. Above all, he was honest, caring, helpful and generous. He was a natural born father, a trait which easily endeared him to everyone whom he crossed paths with. I am going to miss him greatly, his being gone leaves a large hole in my life, the size of which I never anticipated...

Despite the emotionally draining week that I had been through, I still followed through on my original plan to compete in the 15th annual Broomfield Old-Timer's Wrestling Tournament on Saturday. I wrestled in the 27-36 year old division in the only weight class which I have ever known (heavyweight) and, despite emerging unable to breathe and with a bruised rib cage, took 2nd place. I'm definitely going to train, though, if I ever compete in the tournament again. No more going into a wrestling competition cold (and out of shape). No more...It's way harder than I remember...

There's really not much else to say...I'm going to try my best to get back to my schedule for this blogsitething as soon as I can but it may take me some time. Again, I'd like to thank everyone who comes around and especially thank those of you who took the time to leave the wonderful comments regarding my grandfather, It meant a lot to me...

You all have a good Monday, now...

Labels: get outta town, grandpa, sad stories, sports, tales of triumph