My grandfather passed away Tuesday.
My siblings and I called him Zaza. He and my grandmother both originally planned to go by the Yiddish translation, Bubbe and Zeyde, but as a child, my older brother couldn’t pronounce it correctly. Hence, the name Zaza was born.
Zaza had been battling cancer for years. The last time I saw him was this past summer, when we were socially distanced and wearing masks.
My grandfather was a pretty rad guy. He was a navigator in the U.S. Air Force in Vietnam and was roommates with Jim Morrison in college. He was the kind of guy to give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.
He was a man of few words and would read just about anything he could get his hands on. My grandparents traveled around the country in an RV, and he detailed his thoughts and experiences in a blog. I like to think I got my passion for writing from him.
Last week, my family gathered in one place for a singular purpose: to say goodbye to my grandfather for the final time over FaceTime. I live 45 minutes away from my mom’s house, so I drove back at around 2 in the afternoon. However, it felt like the drive took hours.
The past couple of years have been full of loss, but I never bargained for this — nothing prepares you for losing a loved one.
As I was about to turn onto my mom’s street, "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd came on the radio. Pink Floyd was my grandfather’s favorite band and I have always associated the two together.
Until this moment, I had been holding it all in.