Grandfather Part II

“I just wish I could sit on the dock and cry.”

Of all the things that all the people have said to me this week, this line, spoken by one of my family members, is the only thing in my head right now. This funeral process is exhausting. It makes me wonder why we do things the way we do. I have been rushing this week, all week. Every nite has been a late nite and every day has been full. Full of family and visitations and errands and a funeral and finally standing at the place my grandfather’s body now lays. I have been running so hard that I fear the fact has not yet sunk in. The fact is that I no longer have a grandpa. The fact is that I will miss this man very much. The fact is that my children will never have a great-grandpa and that our family will be very different from here on.

This week I have heard a lot of stories and have celebrated my grandpa’s life and have been glad to have an incredible assurance that he is finally home. But it is hard. And I have not had time to grieve. And I too just wish that I could sit on the dock, look up the stars, feel cold water on my toes, and cry big tears because this hurts.