Saying Goodbye

Last Friday we said goodbye to my grandfather "Pa". He'd had emphysema for 30 odd years, so it wasn't unexpected, but it was still hard. My daughters have now said goodbye to two great-grandparents. As a Mom I never quite know if I'm handling situations like these well or not. Each of my children reacted a bit differently to Pa's death, but in general they initially accepted my explanation with no questions. My oldest Miss Bee told me that "At least Pa won't have to use his wheelchair any more." Each of them came to me later and asked questions and made comments. I'm so thankful that as a Christian I could give them the promise that truly this is just goodbye for now, that we will see Pa again and that his spirit will live eternally and without pain. It has been almost a week since Pa left this earth and the children still make at least one comment about him a day. I know that since we spent at least one Sunday a month at his house they won't soon forget him. I wonder if they should journal/draw some of their memories of Pa so they can look back on those later? Maybe I'll suggest that to them tonight.

As for me, I've realized that I'm Finally maturing a bit when it comes to saying goodbye to loved ones. As I joked with my sister when we were at the hospital, she and I could've made a fortune as professional criers if we'd been born a few hundred years ago. My waterworks just aren't controllable. And yet, for the first time ever I was able to not sob like an idiot every time I turned around last weekend. I was there when he left this earth (and crying - but then the whole room was crying), I went to the funeral home to support my dad as he helped with arrangements (and only broke down in the casket room), listened as the siblings wrote the obituary, watched as my children said their goodbyes to Pa at the funeral home (and would've loved to have sobbed the whole time, but kept it to discreet tears - although I sent DH with them when they had to go back to the casket a second time), and sang with all the grandchildren at the funeral (okay, maybe I didn't make it through the whole song, but at least I sang most of it). And lest you think I did all this with fewer tears because I wasn't as close to Pa let me tell you I've spent almost every other Sunday my whole life at Pa's house. I was honestly closer to him than to any of my other grandparents (mostly because I lost two of them when I was a child). I could turn on the waterworks right now and not stop for an hour, but I won't. Because of my children. While they need to see me grieve, they also need me to be strong so they can grieve in my arms. One of the hardest things I've done as a Mom so far is telling them that Pa died. But death is part of life and they must accept that and understand that we only hurt because we have the capacity to love. And loving another person is worth it.

Some of my favorite memories of Pa and spending time at Pa's house:

* When I was young I read all the time. I would bring a book to Pa's house every Sunday. And every Sunday Pa would tell me "You're gonna ruin your eyes if you keep reading so much." I guess he was right. I had LASIK surgery two years ago!

* Pa loved to draw. When I was a girl he would always have drawings laying around. I loved to look at his drawings, especially the mountain scenes and wildflowers. He often gave me a drawing or two and if they were chalk he would spray them with aerosol hairspray first so they wouldn't get smeared.

* Pa also loved to carve. I have great memories of sitting across the creek from his house watching him turn an ordinary piece of wood into a bird or a toy.

* Before Pa's emphysema got really bad I remember going on one last walk with him on the trail to the cabin on his property. He showed me several plants and told me their names. He loved the mountains and communicated that to his children.

* These last few years Pa always kept candy on the table near the couch where he sat. Big Man is a huge fan of orange slices as was Pa. Pa always offered him orange slices whenever Big Man came through the door on Sunday afternoons.


Pa was a Christian. He was a child of the Appalachian Mountains and he never had much in the way of material possessions. But he left an incredible legacy. His nine children have raised their children to know Christ and to love others just like Pa taught his children. He gave his family a moral compass that is sorely lacking in our society today. Things aren't important - how you live your life is what counts. Thank you Pa.