Remembering and grieving the old, eagerly anticipating the new

The new year always brings it's nostalgic traditions...I mentally write a list of all the things that I did and that happened this past year. Many of us do. It's a good way to reflect and remember the last year. For many it was a difficult year. For me, I have to say, probably one of the most difficult. I gladly closed the door on 2009. However, in closing that door, I said goodbye to some dear things in my life, most prominently my grandpa.

The funeral was a wonderful remembrance of him. It's hard to sum up someone's life in an hour and a half. And most of our memories and our words are held captive by the tears and the ever-present lump in the throat. I shared on behalf of our family at the funeral. I felt I needed to, and I'm so glad I did. The tears fell, but I thought of how many times my grandpa has sat in the audience of my other speaking enagements, and I was so glad to have one soley devoted to him. Our dear friend of the family, Kim Sampson, put together the most beautiful tribute in photos and with music. My grandma requested that it not be posted on youtube simply because it is a personal thing, but if any would like to see it, I'd gladly sit with you and a box of tissues and view it again.

The hardest part, which I hadn't anticipated, was right at the end when the pallbearers picked up the coffin and carried it out to the hearse. For some reason, I sobbed from a deep place in my soul. I knew that was the last I'd see my grandpa's face here on earth. Everyone speaks the consolations of our hope of meeting in heaven (which don't get me wrong, that is a GLORIOUS hope, one I know deep in my spirit) but it still doesn't take away the ache of the immediate separation.

Now I have been spending my days at my grandma's house, cuddled up avoiding the below zero temps outside, and sorting and remembering and again, being pressed on all sides by that emptiness that someone leaves behind. When the front door opens, for a split second, I expect it to be grandpa. I'm still having a hard time talking about him in the past tense. But he's gone, and our family grieves together.