Saturday, May 27, 2017

Today

Today, my grandsons graduated from high school.

Nearly 43 years ago, my dear grandmother went to Heaven.
I was 17.
The day before the funeral,
we had all gathered at my grandparents' home,
as families do in times of sorrow.
I came running down the stairs and when I hit the floor
there, in the living room, was my precious grandpa,
his head in his hands,
sobbing.
His heart was broken.

Flash forward 20 or so years.
Three years after my grandma's death,
grandpa remarried.
Seventeen years later, we were in Phoenix
for his 75th birthday.
Everyone was there.
Siblings, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, aunts, uncles,
everyone.

We were doing what families do at reunions -
a dozen different things.
Some gathered around the table snacking and talking.
Some outside splashing in the pool.
Some sitting on the patio visiting.
Some watching a sports event on TV,
rooting for opposing teams and harassing one another.
Some playing a game.
My grandpa and I were sitting on the fireplace hearth,
holding hands and chatting.
A moment of quiet companionship had settled in
as we looked at all the activity and people around us.
And then I noticed.
Tears trickled silently down his cheeks.
He turned to me and said,
"You know Jeanie (family name for me),
I love Grandma Margie with all my heart,
but on days like this,
I miss your grandmother."

Instantly, I flashed back to that other day
and those two moments in time became forever fused in my mind and heart.

Today,
I fully understand.




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