My ramblings - the only solution

It's driving me crazy not to be in school this summer. After 4 semesters in a row - I am so bored not to be sitting in a classroom, taking notes, and/or rushing to get a paper done. Add to that that I actually haven't had a science course in...oh 6 months...it's killing me.

But, I got accepted to a bigger school that will accept all of my credits that I am starting in the fall. August 24th to be exact.

What the hell did I do before I went back to school???

My dog died. Her name was Sammy. She was a year old. Black Lab/German Shepard mix. She tested neg. for parvo, but the symptoms she had were similar so the vet treated her like she had it..poor baby didn't even make it through the night. I bawled. It's almost harder for me when a pet dies than when a human dies. Don't ask me why. Maybe because pets are innocent being, while we all now humans are far from it.

It's funny that I mentioned my dog dying before I mentioned my grandfather died last month. I knew he was sick..lung cancer...but I thought that I'd be ok with him dying and not going to the funeral. *He lived in SC..I live in MN. But about an hour after I got the call...I lost it. I called my grandmother to check on her..and she told me something about the man that I wasn't aware he was capable of...

When I was 10, I went to their house for a month during the summer. On one of the several occasions we went fishing, I put a headband on the rear view mirror of his truck. And wound up leaving it there. Sixteen years later, I finally took it down. It was no longer white and the elasticity was shot because he hung his cb walkie from it. No one was allowed to take it down. My younger cousins weren't allowed to use it. It just hung there...in his truck..everyday for sixteen years, until I took it down and brought it home with me.

So was my grandfather a sentimental man? Did he love me? Was I still "Shellybelly" to him...even after I grew up? I don't know. I'd like to think so. I'd like to think that as his first granddaughter, I help a special place in his heart...a little corner that was just for me. But that's the little girl in me talking. As I grew up...I learned things about my grandfather that, for awhile, made me hate him. It's hard to love a man that you hate. It's hard to hate a man that you love.  I can't help but feel contradictions for him. I miss him..I miss the man I thought he was...back when he was simply Papa. Back before I knew. Is there really such a thing as unconditional love, when the recipient of that love is, in your opinion, undeserving?

So I flew home to mourn my grandfather. And I realized that it didn't matter what he did to others...he was good to me. He taught me to fish (and I'm the best fisherwoman in the family) he taught me to care for animals, he taught me how to shoot a gun (what do you expect? It's South Carolina!) And I can never watch Columbo or NASCAR racing or WWF or the Atlanta Braves without thinking of him. He loved me. I can think back and remember that he did. I can remember the good times and I don't have to dwell on things that happened that didn't involve me. And that's enough for now. It's really all I have.