Remembering Papy

Two years ago today, June 22nd 2013, my grandfather passed away. It was the first time I had ever dealt with the death of a loved one. It also came a week before I was to leave for Ethiopia. I still hadn't completely moved out of my apartment, I hadn't bought everything on my list, I had yet to start packing and say my goodbyes, and then my father called me to tell me Papy had passed away. Death never comes at a good time, and this felt like the worst time.

As my grandparents started getting older and they befell to various illnesses I had always told myself that if anything happened, if life suddenly stopped for them, I would make it back to France. And then Papy died and it was impossible for me to go to the funeral. I felt tremendous guilt and hatred at myself. I felt like a liar. I was so lost and questioned if going to Ethiopia was right at the moment. I know for my parents and my sister this was such a difficult time. My parents were trying to mentally prepare for my departure when Papy left and my sister was in France standing with my family being the amazing support that none of us could be from so far away. That last week was terrible. Since having accepted my invitation to serve in Ethiopia I had been imagining what my last week would be in America. I had all these ideas and plans on what I would do, what I would eat, who I would see. Most of that didn't happen. There was so much to do in so little time. I remember saying goodbye to my friends, but I was in a kind of haze because deep down I was only thinking about Papy and the fact that I would never get to see him again. I felt such enormous guilt at not being close to my grandmother, my dad, and my aunt to support them and be there for them during this difficult time. Ethiopia was the last place I wanted to be and I left for Ethiopia without having grieved for Papy's death.

Somehow I made it here though. I remember talking to one of my close friends during that last week. I didn't know if I should still leave for the Peace Corps. She said something to me that I never forgot. Yes his passing was awful and sad, but now he would get to see me in Ethiopia. He would follow me on my journey and he would be watching me.  He would be looking down on me and would see me do all the things I was going to accomplish in Ethiopia and he would be proud.

That stayed with me and helped me get on that plane. I remember thinking about Papy throughout my entire pre-service training. It was hard because I had to deal with his death in bits and pieces. We were so busy during our 3 months of training I didn't have time to think about it. I remember sessions when he would suddenly appear in my mind and I would want to cry, but I immediately had to shut it off because I was in the middle of a session. We had technical sessions and hours of language classes and cultural integration with our host families and so much more that we had to give 100% to all the time. I never got to fully grieve until after our training and I had been at site for a few weeks. I don't think I completely forgave myself for not being present at his funeral for months. But throughout it all I always remembered what my friend said, Papy would get to see me on my journey.

There is one place in Butajira that I always associate with my grandfather because it was the one place during our training that I got a few minutes of peace and quiet. And each time I was alone he would appear in my mind. It's the gorge in kebele 01 where my host family lived. It's an enormous gorge, a perfect example of Ethiopia's rift valley. And it's so beautiful and gorgeous and immense. Each time I see it I remember sitting at the very top, looking down, and thinking of my grandfather. I was so sad than. But I go to the gorge now and I don't see it as a place of sorrow. It's a place of serenity and peacefulness and a reminder to me that no matter how tough a situation seems and impossible to get through, it does get better. Papy left his mark on Ethiopia, at the gorge.

Thinking about Papy's life and replaying the stories in my mind that family members had told me of his life helped me get through his passing and helped me serve in Ethiopia. The things he had done and the things he had been through at such a young age. The bravery he showed and his humbleness. The courage he had to always stand for what he knew was right. Because I remember thinking that if he could do all that he had done in his life, the least I could do was live in Ethiopia for 2 years. His strength helped me be a stronger person. My Papy is someone to remember.

As I arrive at my 2 year mark I look back at that time before I left and remember all the pain and anguish in our family. Then I look at how we all got through it, how our family came together. From separate continents we supported and loved each other. We cried together. I learned that no matter how much I may argue with my family sometimes, during the tough stuff we are one and we are there for each other.

Because my grandfather left us right before I came to Ethiopia he will always be in some way a part of my experience here. He was part of my process here, of my journey. He helped me get through all the good and the bad. In turn Ethiopia allowed me to grieve and deal with his death. I think it took a few months, but I never forgot him throughout all of this. I made it to the end. Papy was there with me at the beginning and he is here with me today.   

Je t'aime Papy