A Glimpse of Heaven

 I have been hoping for a meaningful encounter with you since November 24th. Something that I could hold on to and know that you are alright. Something that I could carry with me through the hard times when the ache of missing you seems impossible to surmount; it happened last night. 

We were at some sort of gathering in which there was a tight crowd of people all around. It didn't seem like any sort of special occasion, just a gathering of people who all seemed to know one another in some sort of way and were casually visiting. There were people there that I knew too, but I didn't know all of them. I remember specifically hugging a bearded man with glasses and brown hair who seemed to know me intimately, but I don't ever remember encountering him in my real life, but he knew you, and I got the impression he knew me so well because you had told him all about me and our special relationship. 

As I made my way through the crowd of people, I made my way to you. You were standing next to the bearded man and seemed peaceful and calm. You seemed content. It seemed like you had been on a trip for a long time and that you had so many stories to tell me, but first you wanted to take a "selfie" with me. You held the camera out and mentioned that you needed the picture so that you could always have it with you to look at when we couldn't be together in person. I got the impression that you would be away from me for long periods of time and that our time together would be limited to short, sporadic visits when you were able to come back from your voyages. It was then that I turned toward you and just starting sobbing which made you start to cry. I remember how good it felt to hug you. It felt just like usual except there was an urgency in this hug because I didn't know if I would ever get a chance to hug you again, and I wanted to savor every moment of our embrace. I wanted to hold you forever. You were strong in your hug, not frail. It was like you were my grandpa of 25 year ago. You didn't need your walker or a cane. You just stood on your own with your arms wrapped around me and I could feel your strong hands and the way it felt to rest my chin on your chest. I could feel your whiskers on my cheek from you beard. 

Somehow, we knew that our time was limited, and so we cried and hugged and hugged and cried. Each being so happy and appreciative to be in the other's embrace. It felt so good to hug you again. To see you again and be with you. Your hug felt so real; like all of the other hundreds, and maybe thousands of hugs before it. I could remember every detail of your embrace. It was like finding a sacred treasure that you thought was lost forever, but stumbling upon it randomly and knowing how lucky you were to have found it again. Treasuring every part of it. 

But then, something changed, and you were gone. And I knew then that this was all just a dream, and that there would never be another hug again - not in real life anyway. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks to the chest because our dream together seemed so real. I was sure of its realness. 

In the end, I don't know if you came to me, or if you brought me to you, but either way I feel like I got to glimpse a little bit of heaven - being with you again, even if only for a fleeting moment in my dreams, was what I have been waiting for since you left this earth. I hope that you visit me often in my dreams, I will always be waiting for you there. 

You

 Your birthday was a week ago. You would have been 88 this year.  I could not stop thinking about you. I thought about the power of your influence in my life - both good and bad. I thought about the essence of what made you - You. I thought about how much spirit some people possess, how they seem bigger than life. What makes it this way? 

On the day of what would have been your 88th birthday, I wondered if you had made it into heaven. Were your Catholic beliefs correct? Was your faith properly placed? If so, is Grandpa with you? Is he okay? Can you tell him that I miss him so much that the pain seems to break me in two sometimes? 

On your birthday, I thought about how I was correct in believing that you were the heart of the family and that Grandpa was its soul. Without either of those entities how can a living thing go on? It won't, I am learning. Instead, what was our family will change and morph into something else, passed down to the next generation or two. I hope that what we build from the foundation you have left behind is something worth working for. 

On the day of your birth eighty-eight years gone by, I thought about your laughter and generosity. I thought about your 4th of July parties and how much fun they were and how the tradition of them became such a part of my life's summers. I thought about how complicated you were. How much you wrestled with internally that I didn't truly start to comprehend until you were battling dementia. I wondered how much of the vitriol you spewed on others was really a reflection of your own internal conflict within. 

On your birthday, I wondered if you ever really felt our love. Did you know the depth of it? Could you allow yourself to feel it? I know that you sometimes felt like you were in Grandpa's shadow, but you were amazing in your own right, could you ever see that? There is no one in the world who will ever be quite like you. Your generosity was unparalleled, and I know of no one who gave so willingly and freely of her resources (except for my own mother). 

I miss you - immensely. I miss your laughter, your smiles, your crooked finger pointing as you tell a story, your Yankees midriff t-shirt. I miss hearing Janis Joplin on the stereo playing while you make dinner - a white or black Russian in a red tinted glass on the counter as you prepare the latest evening meal. I miss hearing you call for me and the nicknames you had for me. I just miss your presence in my life. I would take all of you - even your hard, dark parts - in order to be able to spend time with you again. 

On the 15th of February, I wondered if you were happy. Did you feel whole, complete? Were your wounds, both external and internal, healed? Most importantly, I wondered if you were at peace. 

I don't know that I have the same beliefs as you in terms of what comes after death, if anything at all, but I would like to believe that there is something after this life, even if I am still undecided about it. I would like to believe that the dream I had about you the night after I got back to North Carolina after your funeral was your way of telling me that you were okay. For as long as I live, I will never forget that dream. You looked beautiful and radiated peace and happiness. That dream was one of my favorite dreams of all time. 

I hope you know you are missed - and that your legacy will live on through those left behind to finish our own journeys in this thing call Life. 

I hope we meet again in my dreams. I'll be looking for you...

Hanging Rock State Park

In an effort to get out of the house more often and see the sights around North Carolina while we still live here (we are not planning on moving out of state any time soon, but I don't see us staying here permanently) we have made it a point as a family to try and get out every Saturday to hike new trails. The weather here this winter has been pretty rainy, so we haven't been able to get out as often as we would like to, but we have made it out several times in the last 6-7 weeks. We are also making more of an effort to try and get out now, as opposed to the springtime because both Elizabeth and Josh will have spring soccer games that will take up a good majority of our Saturdays. By the time summer comes around it has been our experience that it is too darn humid in these parts to be hiking, but maybe we will change our mind this summer and get to the mountains more often as it is not as hot and humid as the Charlotte area is. 

On this particular Saturday, we headed to Hanging Rock State Park and hiked a pretty hard trail up and down a mountain. The scenery at the top was very pretty with miles and miles of mountain peaks in every direction one could look. We brough Max with us which I know he appreciated and with the exception of the car ride there in which he whined the whole time in the car, he was a very good boy. 

With Josh being at school, it was just the five of us, but we all still had a good time together. We are getting more and more used to Josh not being around for a lot of what we do. In 6ish months, we'll have to get used to another member of our tribe not being around a lot as Sarah will be heading off to college as well. 

I am always glad that we get out of the house as a family. I think everyone of us would agree with that statement. It is so easy to get caught up in staying at home and doing home things that one can forget that there is a whole wide world out there waiting to be explored. 

It is always cool for us to go hiking in places where these signs exist. There is something about being reminded that nature can be a dangerous place that is a bit intoxicating to me. 

 

Of course, I have to include a Moose pic. He stayed home while we hiked, but kept the house in order and under control.