18 days ago, I lost my Grandfather Earl. Grampa made it to his stated goal of 90 years old just 24 days before he died. His passing was peaceful, and I was among those there at his bedside at the end. I consider that a gift.
Earl was a fixture in my life for all of my 44 years. He and I loved each other dearly.
Grandma died in 2000, and over the past 14 years, many have watched out for Earl. When his sister Evelyn, my Aunt Babe, died in 2005, I had the chance to buy her home, which was right next door to Grampa. My wife, my stepson and I have lived here since 2007.
As my family begins the painful but necessary process of deconstructing the life lived in his now empty home, possessions, prized and not so prized, take on new significance. Connections lost, severed, or just forgotten, are renewed. Memories return and take on new meaning. Greater insight and understanding are gained. And new questions arise that you realize you may never answer.
All of it means something, if you stop long enough to feel and to think of how to find that meaning.
|Me & Grampa Earl circa 1970|
Grampa's life was meaningful to me and to many. Whatever follows here in these pages in the future somehow starts here at the end.