My friends, it was a cold and windy morning on the 29th of January when my children said goodbye to their Poppy. It had only been 4 short months since he sat at their soccer games cheering from the sidelines. 5 months since he sat in church watching his grandson receive the sacrament of eucharist. 6 months since he toured the battleship New Jersey and spent countless hours watching Dr. Pol with my son. Through bad circumstance, kidney stones and sepsis ravaged his body, then strokes and bed sores followed. Without the strength to heal, we knew he would soon take his last breath.

You know when you worry about people and how they will respond to certain types of situations? You know how, as a parent, you layout the situation your child will be in a hundred times before it happens? For some reason, I didn’t do that. And, maybe it was the stress of it all. I’m not sure, but I watched it unfold for the first time when they walked into his house.

My son stepped in the room first and headed right for the bed. My dad raised his hand to hold Ry’s. His eyebrows were raised in acknowledgement and just above a whisper he said, “Love you.” My son looked sad, intense, and scared. The embodiment of love, companionship, and admiration lay in that bed dying. He stood there as long as he could, and then he stepped away. I held him until he was ready to sit down and we watch his sister say goodbye.

My daughter walked to my dad telling stories in her loud and lovely voice. She spoke of vacations and Poppy jokes, things she loved about him, and memories she would cherish. She stood close to him and watched him as she spoke. He closed his eyes and listened to her.

It was a beautiful moment in time, and if I close my eyes, I can go back there and find peace inside so much pain. It is a beautiful thing to be surrounded by loved ones before you die and my father deserved nothing less.

Later, they left without the knowledge that it was the last time they would speak with him. He passed the next afternoon and the permanence of death became real to those two sweet souls. Their Poppy was gone, a beautiful chapter in their life ended, and the love of a grandfather would never be felt again. In many ways, I was sadder for them then I was for myself, and yet, their resilience in this loss has shown me so many things about how to love that I cannot yet put into words.