My 30th August 15th My grandfather died on a Friday night, and his last smile was a long smile. For one beautiful moment, four sets of loving hands held him tenderly, one last set missing, longing to be present. The soft cries of a faithful life partner, wondering at the unbelievable absence which had finally arrived. The moment we all knew was coming, had accepted and feared both at the same time. Im sorry for your loss is such an empty phrase. How does one compensate for death? How do you account for it, how do you fill the gaping hole left by such a departure? Words and wind. My grandfather was a great man. We all know that, we feel it in the deepest part of our hearts and know it in the furthest recesses of our minds. And we will carry him with us always. Popo, tío, brother, father, husband. Friend. Man of God and faith and good will. Now all that is left for us is to clean up the leftovers of a life well-lived. And painful though it may be, we will do it dutifully, saving for ourselves the most precious pieces of all, the pieces of his life that touched us. We will always remember him. I will always remember his last smile, even though I never got to see it.
Posted on: Sat, 16 Aug 2014 06:38:03 +0000
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