Our family gathered this past weekend to pay our respects to Grandpa, the patriarch who inspired us with his gentle spirit, his kindness, generosity, love, and faith.
That the weekend was one of the most profound and emotionally rich weekends I’ve experienced compels me to write. The only weekend that compares is the one in Tucson when our family gathered to celebrate my cousin Phil’s life.
Why both these occasions resonate so deeply for me was not in the grief and sorrow that accompanies the passing of a loved one.
It was the power of family on display. More specifically, the recognition and appreciation of the love and bond we share as family members in this temporal life.
The death that brought us together obviously offered vivid context to life’s fleeting nature. Even in our gathering, there were physical reminders – from graying temples and deeper wrinkles to stooped postures and an insidious disease – that we exist in a dynamic world, where nothing stays the same.
More context came from the barrage of news updates on the weekend’s UK terror activity, stark reminders that no guarantees are offered on this increasingly dangerous planet.
Indeed, we are but a mist, a vapor.
This was the proverbial elephant in the room. That this group of people, linked through the strongest of relationships, may never come this way again.
Rather than casting a pall over our time together, it served as a reminder of how precious and fragile life is. And I believe it served as the catalyst of glorious, loving behavior.
My family supported and embraced each other. We laughed together. We endlessly ogled over my sister’s beautiful infant, Britta, she a wondrous symbol of life and new beginnings. In our reunion, we found power. In our time together, we discovered joy.
We celebrated life by living in the moment.
How else to explain an impractical, yet spontaneous and absolutely awesome Sunday afternoon road trip to Yosemite with Aunt Joan, Uncle Ed, and Cousin Deb that concluded with an 11 pm burger run to In-N-Out? What a massive memory that is.
This weekend was truly special. It was something to be treasured, to hold dear to our hearts, to remember.
Much was said during the weekend about the generosity Grandpa displayed toward individuals and institutions alike. Even among the grandkids, we recounted how he not only remembered our birthdays (even when he was well into his 90s), but how he would still send us birthday gifts.
For me, this past weekend was the best gift Grandpa gave to us – a priceless reminder to love and appreciate the family he so indelibly shaped.
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