This morning I found out via email (because not many people have my new number) that my grandfather, Mom’s dad, passed away late last week. For all that this wasn’t exactly unexpected at some point this year, it still hit me pretty hard… and I think I’m glad I didn’t find out via the phone. I wouldn’t have had anything meaningful (let alone intelligible) to say at the time, and after two months of job hunting I’ve just about had my fill of awkward interaction with human beings.

I spent the day playing games on the computer, talking about game stuff with friends during the evening, and playing a card game to round out the night. This isn’t because I shrugged off the news and blithely moved on; I needed to divert my brain for a few hours or risk entering one hell of a fugue state.

You know, again.

We aren’t the closest-knit family you’ve ever seen. Generally speaking we don’t have much to say to one another anymore, nor do we visit much. My sister, during her trip “out west” a while back, had to guilt trip cajole me into visiting with Granddad and his wife while they were in town to see Sis (and her husband and new baby). It was, as expected at the time, the last time I’d see him alive. On one hand… yay, I saw him one last time. On the other… he didn’t look good, and the oxygen tube trailing across the floor of the hotel room didn’t help. I left that place thoroughly bummed out.

I suppose it wasn’t really about me, though, was it? I need to work on this self-centered worldview. Ahem.

Grandpa Gene Kelsey probably contributed as much of my genetic “geek code” as my father did, when you get right down to it. He was a ham radio operator, computer enthusiast (heavily into Linux during the last few years), genealogist, all-around tinkerer, and a good many other things besides. One of my earliest memories is of a family trip to the Museum of Natural History in New York City, during a visit Gene & Mary (she’s always been just “Mary” to us, by her insistence, as we already had a “Grandma” on Mom’s side) made “out east” to see us. I rode around on Grandpa Gene’s shoulders, showing off my education by proclaiming that the “Dr” abbreviations on the signs we saw stood for “Doctor.” They were street signs, mind you. (This is among the earliest examples of my gods-given knack for being completely wrong when making any kind of earnest declaration of fact.)

I always liked visiting Gene & Mary’s place over the years, partly because Granddad had neat stuff and partly because Mary is a very, very good cook. I probably didn’t make enough opportunities for my children to get to know him, and that’s one of the many things I’m certain will be haunting me for years to come.

In an already grim year, this is a particularly heavy event that will take me a while to move past. To anyone out there less estranged from their family than I am from mine: I strongly suggest that you make the time required to let your oldest loved ones know how much you appreciate them. There’s no time like the present, and no telling how many chances you may have remaining.