a good & sweet year

LDW came as quickly as it went. On Saturday, August 31st, we went to the Columbia County Fair - as is tradition. August 31st was my grandpa's birthday. A little of two years ago, he passed away in his Hudson home. He was 83 but it was incredibly sudden and a surprise. Just two days prior, he was breaking into our new garage in our upstate house because we didn't have a key to get in. My 83 year-old grandfather climbed into a garage through a very high window. My grandpa/gramps/paw-paw was my everything. He understood me. I understood him. I was his pal. I had him wrapped around my finger, which was something I always knew not to take advantage of. Instead, it was a special skill that I used to alleviate any family drama. I am who I am because of him. I'm sarcastic. I'm knowledgable about politics. I'm always down for a good debate - or "talk," as gramps would say. I'm always very comfortable with death because my grandpa was always very open about it. He had grand plans for a simple man. He always wanted to be cremated and be a part of the earth. That was until he read about turning ashes into diamonds. He would tease me from a young age that he would pay to make me a diamond necklace. One day I sacked up and told him that the idea of me being responsible for one diamond necklace scared me. What if I lost him? He reminded me that he just liked to tease me and told me not to worry. Life is too short to worry. I was probably about ten years-old. At 24 years-old, I owned my grandpa's ashes. We purchased one large urn, which lays to rest at a cemetery for veterans. Then we got four small urns - one for my grandmother, mother, uncle and me. This was my grandfather's wish.Then I was 25 years-old, and living with my boyfriend. I thought it would be a little weird bringing my grandpa with me to our first home together. Grandma just got a new house upstate. She wanted to keep her husband's ashes in their home of 50 years in Brooklyn. So I told her she can have my ashes (on loan) because he belongs upstate - his favorite place on earth. Now I'm 26. My grandmother's new home upstate was broken into. Everything stolen - television, microwave, toaster oven, cash, coins... and my grandpa's ashes. Someone stole my grandpa. My paw-paw. Physically. Gone. I've cried almost every night for the past few weeks but I know my grandpa would just tell me I was wasting my energy. It is what it is. We live and then we die. We go back into the earth one way or another. He made us promise him, long ago, that unlike what Jewish tradition calls for, he wanted to be remembered on his birthday, August 31st; not the day of his death, April 19th. No mourners kaddish, just celebrate his birthday. So that's what we do. Go to the fair, like we did with him. See the animals, drink milkshakes from the Milk Shed, maybe catch a concert, do some shopping. Twinkies were his favorite. The man loved his sweets. I'm not a Twinkie fan but had a fried one just for him.This birthday was especially hard, but he would remind me that this week will be a new year. Shana tova.