How Much Light is Left?
Good question, and one that was on my mind at the start of it all.
This is random and unless you want a sad story, move on.
My grandfather passed almost four years ago, the 'anniversary' will be in two weeks.
Wednesday before he passed - I was in Boone at ASU for a Model UN conference for my kids/school. I was sitting in their commons, this area that has a waterfall and some comfy chairs. I was browsing insta and saw a post by a musician, Bob Nanna, that got my interest.
BN owns a site called DownWrite - you can get musicians to write you a song, mostly punk/emo/indie artists, wouldnt appeal to many on here. But I like his music and he posted that for the next 24 hours he'd do a song for 99c. Now the site charges a fee of 5 bucks, but he'd even refund that if you asked. Hell, it's six dollars, I dont care about the refund.
So I ordered.
Thursday - Im on the bus coming back, plans were to visit my grandfather in the hospital on Friday. Got a text from my dad, call him when I get back to school. I replied asking if all was ok, he said yes. Liar. (for the record, Im not mad at him for that, he told me he knew there was nothing I could do while on the bus, no reason to get me worked up for another hour on the bus).
Get to the school around 7pm or so, Im tired. Call dad.
He said, (not verbatim) "I know you planned to come see Pop tomorrow, you need to come tonight"
I drove to High Point to the hospital. This was it, it was all downhill.
He, Pop, had already stated he was done. No more meds, no more food, he was done.
I cried and cried and cried before I even entered the room. IM starting to tear up as I write this.
I just bought my first house one week before, Halloween. I wanted so bad for him to see it, to be proud of me.
I didnt leave. I stated to my family I wasnt leaving, and I didnt for many hours. I stayed in a recliner beside his bed that night, listening to Hey Mercedes and The City on Film - two bands of Bob Nanna.
Very late at night I had a thought - write Bob. I sent an email to the address I had from my receipt, again, knowing he owned the business. I stated how I was a fan and that there I was beside my dying grandfather in the hospital, but that his music helped a bit. Then I was out, asleep.
Next morning I wake, spend hours there till around 9am I said I needed to leave to eat something. Went to DeBeen for coffee and a muffin and I had my laptop (had it with me on my App trip).
Log on and there's an email from Bob at like 2 or 3am, I forget now.
He was very sympathetic and I was stoked he wrote me back. I replied and included a picture of me and him (Bob from Boston) and told him how I'd bought a song two days before. A few emails and that was that.
That was a Friday morning. I ended up going home to sleep some on that Saturday morning, and left for lunch on Saturday afternoon for about an hour.
That night he passed.
Time went on and I thought about the song, I never got it. I wrote and just said, "hey, never heard back on the song" He apologized and said mine was the last one.
I got it days later. "How Much Light is Left?"
It just came on my ipod in the car. Ive only heard it fully once or twice in four years (well, lets call it 3.75). I dont like to listen to it. Not because it's bad, but because of the memories of why it's written.
I miss my grandfather immensely. Anything good about me - thank my dad and grandfather (as well as grandmother ), both men mean so much to me, role models.
I just wanted to share. I probably shouldnt have, not here, not now. No, not CFF, but sitting outside a coffee shop in Thomasville. This was tough.
Yall spend time with those you love and care about, have a good afternoon.
Good question, and one that was on my mind at the start of it all.
This is random and unless you want a sad story, move on.
My grandfather passed almost four years ago, the 'anniversary' will be in two weeks.
Wednesday before he passed - I was in Boone at ASU for a Model UN conference for my kids/school. I was sitting in their commons, this area that has a waterfall and some comfy chairs. I was browsing insta and saw a post by a musician, Bob Nanna, that got my interest.
BN owns a site called DownWrite - you can get musicians to write you a song, mostly punk/emo/indie artists, wouldnt appeal to many on here. But I like his music and he posted that for the next 24 hours he'd do a song for 99c. Now the site charges a fee of 5 bucks, but he'd even refund that if you asked. Hell, it's six dollars, I dont care about the refund.
So I ordered.
Thursday - Im on the bus coming back, plans were to visit my grandfather in the hospital on Friday. Got a text from my dad, call him when I get back to school. I replied asking if all was ok, he said yes. Liar. (for the record, Im not mad at him for that, he told me he knew there was nothing I could do while on the bus, no reason to get me worked up for another hour on the bus).
Get to the school around 7pm or so, Im tired. Call dad.
He said, (not verbatim) "I know you planned to come see Pop tomorrow, you need to come tonight"
I drove to High Point to the hospital. This was it, it was all downhill.
He, Pop, had already stated he was done. No more meds, no more food, he was done.
I cried and cried and cried before I even entered the room. IM starting to tear up as I write this.
I just bought my first house one week before, Halloween. I wanted so bad for him to see it, to be proud of me.
I didnt leave. I stated to my family I wasnt leaving, and I didnt for many hours. I stayed in a recliner beside his bed that night, listening to Hey Mercedes and The City on Film - two bands of Bob Nanna.
Very late at night I had a thought - write Bob. I sent an email to the address I had from my receipt, again, knowing he owned the business. I stated how I was a fan and that there I was beside my dying grandfather in the hospital, but that his music helped a bit. Then I was out, asleep.
Next morning I wake, spend hours there till around 9am I said I needed to leave to eat something. Went to DeBeen for coffee and a muffin and I had my laptop (had it with me on my App trip).
Log on and there's an email from Bob at like 2 or 3am, I forget now.
He was very sympathetic and I was stoked he wrote me back. I replied and included a picture of me and him (Bob from Boston) and told him how I'd bought a song two days before. A few emails and that was that.
That was a Friday morning. I ended up going home to sleep some on that Saturday morning, and left for lunch on Saturday afternoon for about an hour.
That night he passed.
Time went on and I thought about the song, I never got it. I wrote and just said, "hey, never heard back on the song" He apologized and said mine was the last one.
I got it days later. "How Much Light is Left?"
It just came on my ipod in the car. Ive only heard it fully once or twice in four years (well, lets call it 3.75). I dont like to listen to it. Not because it's bad, but because of the memories of why it's written.
I miss my grandfather immensely. Anything good about me - thank my dad and grandfather (as well as grandmother ), both men mean so much to me, role models.
I just wanted to share. I probably shouldnt have, not here, not now. No, not CFF, but sitting outside a coffee shop in Thomasville. This was tough.
Yall spend time with those you love and care about, have a good afternoon.
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