A Time for Healing

My beloved grandfather passed away this week and his death will forever leave a void.  He was the kindest person I've ever known, the most unfailingly optimistic and the most unselfishly loving.  He was my Papa.  He was also a beloved husband to his wife of 67 years, and treasured father to three daughters.  I shared him with seven other grandchildren and ten great grandchildren.  He made each and every one of us feel special and he will be sorely missed.

We came together the last few days and in taking care of the details and final arrangements, we began to heal one another.  Every hug held some magic ingredient, some magic little spark of energy that made both people just a tiny bit stronger.  Every tear shed was a little easier to bear because it was shared.

Over the days, the stories we told became a little easier to tell and a little easier to hear.  The focus moved from his passing to his life and his love.  We relived all the little things -  the phrases he used, funny little things he did.  All the little things that made him the person he was.

In mourning, we heal.  In celebrating, we remember.  In living by his lessons, we honor.

Yes, he leaves behind a void.  But, as a family, we close ranks around that hole and knit it into the lacy pattern of the fabric of our lives.