My grandfather passed away this day.
Something in me wants to write a tribute to him. Some sort of compilation of his good traits and sayings—a eulogy of sorts. But I don't think I am the person to write my grandfather's eulogy—I only knew him for 24 of his 80 years on this earth—not enough to compile a proper synopsis of his character. Not to mention, I just don't think my grandfather would really want that from me. Instead I want to share how powerful it was to see a family as spread out as mine, come together for the intimate and intense experience of his passing.
If I learned anything about my grandfather in his last days, it was just how much he was and is loved. All of his children returned to support him, as did a number of his grandchildren. We gathered around him, cared for him, listened to him, sang to him, and prayed with him. There were tears mixed with laughter, makeshift beds scattered around his bed in the living room, and trays of sympathy food overflowing from the refrigerator. This man drew a crowd, not an entirely large one, but one just the right size—a crowd to show you he had managed to really touch people in this world.
Of course I am sad. I will miss his mildly (and often wildly) inappropriate humor, his ornery demeanor, his strong opinions, and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled. I am sad for my grandmother, who lost the man who has been her other half for over 60 years. I am sad for my mother, who lost her father. And I am sad for my grandfather himself, because I know he just wasn't ready to go.
But I trust that he is at peace. His health and his heart had gone through much in the past couple years, and so I am happy that he is now able to rest comfortably. I am happy for the years we shared. I am happy for the love and life he gave to my family. And I am happy he left crowded by compassion, surrounded by loved ones to lift him on to the next volume of his journey. This is all we can hope for when our time comes.
Keep peace and keep creating,
Parker <3
