Monday, 11 April 2011

#34 A Happy Kind of Sadness

Dear Grandad,

We went to see you today. The funeral directors brought you home to Grandma's house at 10 o'clock this morning, and there you will stay until the funeral tomorrow. 

The first thing that struck me was the peace that seemed to emanate from Grandma's house, something that every visitor has commented on. We sat in the room where you died (I sat in more or less the very spot where you breathed your last) but it wasn't sad or macabre. We talked about you. We laughed. We shared a time of prayer. 

You would be so proud of grandma. She has been so brave and so practical. She wanted to keep you at the house until the funeral, but the warm weather prevented her from doing so. She urged us all to touch your head, even just for a second, because she said that this diminishes the fear of death, and she was so right. You looked so dignified and peaceful that although we all felt an acute sense of loss, it was hard to feel sad. Any sadness we felt was, in a way, tinged with happiness. Happiness because you are at peace and no longer suffering. 

As grandma said, you are not here any more. You are with the Lord, and one day we will see you again. She cried a little as we viewed you, and spoke to you so tenderly. I know she loved you so very much. You shared nearly 58 years of marriage, and even though you didn't know who she was towards the end, you still showed her that she meant a lot to you by kissing the back of her hand whenever it was near. 

Afterwards, mum and dad showed us the church, and the pub where the wake will take place. We also visited the cemetery, and the double plot where you will be laid to rest. Trees lined the pathway, their branches laden with pink and white blossom, and the stunning view of the river was not in any way affected by the dismal weather. 

Thank you for touching all our lives. It has been a privilege knowing you, and it was a privilege seeing you looking so peaceful in death. I miss you and I'll never forget you. I know that one day we will meet again, but in the mean time I'll strive to make you proud of me. 

All my love,



Ashley said...

What a beautiful post! I'm tearing up reading this!

It sounds like your granddad had a wonderful life and a beautiful family. I'm very sorry for your loss, and I know this is a difficult time for you and your family. But I rejoice in knowing that God is clearly at work in this situation. He is comforting your family and giving them peace. Your grandma sounds amazing, by the way! What an inspiration!

I'm praying for your family! I hope the funeral goes smoothly and that you all get a chance to celebrate your grandfather's life!

Anna said...

I've cried a river!
Kess, I left you a voicemail.. Sorry if it sounded like total gibberish but I was nervous ! :)) Will be thinking of you all tomorrow my darling.

Kess said...

*Ashley* Thank you, that means so much. It's the morning of the funeral and it's a beautiful day. The sun is shining for him. I think it will be sad, but I also think your description of the funeral as a 'celebration of life' will sum it up perfectly. I really think it will be just that. Thank you for all your prayers and support dear

*Anna* I was so gutted to miss your call. I just didn't hear my phone go, and I didnt pick up yur voicemail until about 11.30pm, and felt it was a bit late to call back :-( I was thrilled to hesr your voice though. You didn't sound at all nervous. It was a lovely message and you have the most gorgeous accent! I'm going to text you shortly to let you know I'll give you a ring tonight! Really looking forward to chatting.