Death's Anniversary

Yesterday marked one year since my grandfather passed away. I was going to write a post about it yesterday, but all the emotions were raw and I had no idea how to put everything into words.
I started out my day getting ready for work and did not realize what the day was until I looked at my phone after showering. Somehow seeing the date was like reliving the phone call saying he had died, and an even deeper ache was felt upon realizing that an entire year had passed without his physical presence on earth.
I selfishly wish my grandfather were still here. I say selfishly, because I know that his last two years were a struggle for him. He was always an active man who was able to care for himself, his family, and reach out to those around him; I can't imagine how he must have felt when his lungs betrayed him by growing scar tissue where healthy tissue should have been.
I also wish i could tell him things. I want to tell him how much I love him. He may have known that, but I will never be sure. I don't think he knew how much I looked up to him. Everything was right with the world as long as grandpa was a phone call away. I dreaded every disappointing him, and every time I did it was like ripping out one of my own organs.  He gave help and I gave an outer appearance of apathy.
I still want to please him, even though I know that he is no longer on this earth. I believe that he was welcomed into his Father's house with open arms, hearing the words "Well done, good and faithful servant." My grandfather has no more tears and is in the presence of pure love. I have no reason to be sad for him, as he has no reason to be sad himself. My sorrow is for myself and those of us left behind, and yesterday I wanted nothing more than to yield to it completely.
Thankfully a part of our grandfather passed on to our family, and my sisters convinced me that it would be good to go and spend time with my grandma and dad. So after visiting grandpa's grave, then my other grandma's grave as they are in the same cemetery, I binged on some taco bell, pulled myself together, and spent time with family. We didn't talk about grandpa, as we all knew where our thoughts were. We were just together...and it was enough.
So maybe people are sometimes the answer to depression. Sometimes you just need the presence of someone whose feelings, in some ways, mirror your own. I know it helped grandma, and I know it helped me.
This makes one down, and another to go. Come April I will repeat similar emotions for my grandmother who also passed last year. I am willing to bet there will be both slight and vast differences in the methods of coping.