When People Leave
How do we find gratitude in death?
Two weeks ago, my grandfather died. And I've been at a loss for words. I’ve never experienced death up close like this before. I called him Poppy. He was one of the people in my life who I thought would live forever. I know people don't live forever, but I swore Poppy would.
Death is shocking. It's so final. It makes life feel so small.
When I got the news, I was boarding a flight back home. It was surreal to hear the words, "Poppy died this morning." My world paused, but everyone else's around me didn't. What a strange and disorienting feeling. I cried the entire flight home.
I'm sad that he is no longer here.
I'm sad that he died from cancer.
I'm sad that I won't be able to speak to him or text him or laugh with him anymore.
I hear his voice saying, "you are dynamite, kiddo!" clear as day when I close my eyes.
I think of him when I eat chocolate and how he had a candy closet stacked to the ceiling in his basement.
I feel his nose against my head, deeply inhaling after a peck like he was taking in every moment of his goodbyes.
My Poppy was special.
I had my first book signing in his backyard.
He cared deeply about us and loved us hard.
He let me be a kid when I was a kid.
He was generous.
He was loving.
He is unforgettable.
We thought he was getting better.
He thought he was getting better.
How do we find gratitude when someone leaves?
How do we make peace with losses like this?
I'm not sure how life works or why it goes on for some and stops for others. I feel confused by this grief. I just don't want to forget, ya know?
I don't want the memories to fade.
I am grateful to have been loved by him in this lifetime. What an extraordinary gift it was to know him.
Grief is intense. And sneaky. And complex. My dad passed on Valentine’s Day this year and even after living through the loss of my mom at the age of 5, my stepmom, a cousin, all my grandparents... there is nothing that could have prepared me for this experience. My daddy was always there when the others left, and now he’s gone. The pain I feel is full of gratitude, not for his passing, but for him... his being and the depth of his love for me and my younger sister. My gratitude is overwhelming at times. I have been blessed beyond understanding.
I heard someone say once that the reason we struggle in our grief is because we are looking for our loved ones where they WERE instead of finding them where they ARE. The connection I have to my dad is alive and shows up in so many magical ways. It soothes me. But the human part of me that wishes I could have one more moment with him is still very real. And to be honest, I don’t expect that to change. I think it’s part of what we signed up for. To feel it all. To experience the deep contrast in this world of matter. But maybe we can learn to look on death as a sweet transition into something beautiful... absent of the darkness, the heaviness we experience while we are here.
I am sorry for your loss, and grateful for the love you experienced. Prayers for peace for you and your family Alex.
I’ve been following your journey for a while now. It’s so wild how aligned our lives are. I just lost my grandma, my favorite person, three weeks ago. I’ve never been this close to death before. Some days it feels unreal, while other days it feels entirely too real, heavy and heartbreaking. No words ever feel like the “right” words. Without her I feel lost. And as you said, no one else’s world stops like it has for you. Your experience has always helped through the darkest times. I think this time will be no different. I hope you lean into love, community, faith and joy. I hope each day is a little brighter and a lot lighter. Obviously we don’t know each other, but I have so much love for you Alex and wish nothing but the best. The world is better with you in it.