Time is seemingly short for a dear family friend... A friend I've heard my dad speak highly of for a long time. He speaks of their journey together, through weddings and funerals, golf league and business. Tears and laughter have paved the way for this family and ours. And while I find myself removed via physical miles, I find the tears unending and feel the tidal wave of grief creeping closer and closer threatening to overtake me at any moment without notice.
And last night this thought occurred to me. You can spend your entire life knowing that heaven waits for you. That loved ones who have gone before are living in perfect health, in perfect life eternal. And yet while you wait for your moment to walk/run/fly through those gates it seems nearly impossible to not be fearful and sad of the earthly goodbyes. To know what you might be missing in lieu of the splendor completely unknown.
All times of grief bring my son to my mind, and they bring to my mind the loss of Matt's dad... They bring to mind those rehearsed conversations, those "what would I say if I get to say goodbye." I always find myself in this place. In my mind the words I'd say are: Go. Go in peace. Do what you need to do and when or if you get to choose - go celebrate. Run to your Daddy God, run to your complete healing. The wake that gets left behind... will never be the same without you. But we will carry on. We will celebrate your reunions while we grieve our loss. I will imagine you throwing my boy in the air. Being a grandpa of sorts to him. To this particular friend I imagine my son sitting in a chair on the porch (of the old lake house) with you right beside him. Laughing and smiling. Teaching him to fish.
But all I can really do... is cry.
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