August 14th

It's easy to say that I don't pay attention to dates. More like actual numbers. I can tell you that it's Wednesday, because Tuesdays and Wednesdays are my days off. I can tell you it's August, because schools are starting to begin and work is starting to slow. But when it comes to dates, I always have to look at a calendar.

Sunday marked the one year anniversary of my Poppop's passing. That day will forever be ingrained in my mind. Thank the Lord you can't see me as I write this because tears are streaming. Good tears.

*WARNING: This is sad. It may hit home to those of you who have lost someone. But I need to tell this story. I need to get it out.*

Last July Dave and I were lucky enough to get some time off to spend with my family in Sea Isle City, New Jersey. I feel extremely blessed that my managers pulled every string they could to get me the time off during our busiest summer month.It was the last time I would ever see/spend time with my Pop. I knew something was up by the way my Pop was acting. Every day he would make sure he came down to the beach and play games with us. He would wade into the water up to his knees or play bocci or washers with us. He would laugh with us and make sure that we had a great time. He didn't make it look like he was trying, but we knew he was. The whole family and Dave had a great time during that vacation. Before we left Dave made the mistake of calling my Pop Mr. Keenan (he is Mr. Cassidy). We were all in stitches during that moment. When my brother was driving us to the airport I couldn't help but to silently cry, knowing that the next time I would see my grandfather would be so different.

Bernie, Joe and the Grandkids (Billy, Lauren, Kate, Alissa, and Lindsay)

Pop and my sister Alissa

Pop fighting the ocean (aka the good fight)

On August 13th 2010, my Uncle and I arrived at Philly International. My dad picked us up and we drove straight to the hospice. My Pop was unable to open his eyes or move. I held his hand and talked to him. I told him I was there, that I loved him very much. I told him that the weather in Florida was hot and disgusting (we always talked about the weather over the phone). I sat quietly expecting to see him one last time maybe the next day. I never did. After I said goodbye, I went home and got in bed knowing that I would get up early the next day to go visit him again. I remember crying before I went to bed. I had this feeling that something wasn't right, yet I felt really at peace at the same time. It was really unsettling.

I don't know what time it was. I felt like I had just closed my eyes and I was already waking up. It was time to go back to the hospice. Pop had passed.

Everyone was in this tiny room. My grandmom was holding his hand. My uncle, aunt, and two cousins and my dad, mom, brother, sister, and I were all standing at the foot of the bed. There were tears. My grandmom was combing his hair and talking to him. It was just a really odd feeling. That feeling of finally saying goodbye. We all talked to him, cracked some jokes with him, and sent our love with him to heaven. It was nothing like I imagined it would be and no one really burst into tears until we left. We all knew it was long overdue. It was his perfect time.

This was the first time I had ever lost someone so close to me. My Pop was the ONLY man (aside from my hubby, brother, and dad) I wanted to be at my wedding. I really wanted to share a dance with him. It's really hard for me not to think about him all the time. He was such and influence on my life and in the lives of my entire family. Everything reminds me of him.

Maybe I was in denial or maybe I wasn't paying attention, but it snuck up on me. August 14th, 2011. I was opening coordinator and dating the opening checklists when I stopped breathing for a second. Mid writing, I stopped and walked out into the bypass hallway and cried. I didn't sob, but I cried. It was like I ran into a brick wall. It hurt.

I made it through the day. I like to think that my Pop's love and comedic outlook on life helped me. He lived every second of every day. He made all those seconds count. His life is carved into my entire family's life. He was going to be my brother's best man at his wedding (though my brother knew that he wasn't going to make it to the wedding). He took my cousin Kate and I on many trips to the casino, he took my cousin Lindsay and my sister Alissa out to lunch. He was an amazing father to my mom and Aunt Clare. He was a stubborn Irish father-in -law to my Dad and my uncle Bob. He was a loving husband to my Grandmom. He was funny, inspiring, caring, loving, energetic, and more. He was Joe Cassidy. He knew everyone and everyone knew him. I wasn't really sure of this fact until EVERYONE showed up to his viewing and funeral. It POURED on the night of his Viewing and there was a line for two blocks the whole time of the viewing.

I would be a totally different girl if it wasn't for my grandpop. I owe so much to him. However, to honor him the most, I only have to live this life to the fullest. I have to know and care about everyone. It doesn't matter if they care about me, I just have to care about them. It makes a difference.

So Pop, since you're up there watching over us, can you give me a swift kick on days that I need it? Can you throw some sunshine on days when I'm gray? Can you send some Irish luck to help me walk in your footsteps? I love you and I miss you every day.

Here is a video of the Christmas we bought my cousins a wii and my grandmom and Pop bowling....