Often, days begin with flat emotions, unsure of what to expect and how to feel. In a place full of history, hurt, love, and times rather forgotten, my heart beat, waiting for my mind to decipher the scenario so that it could leap or plummet. Like many others, I live far away from those that I call family. Now, as I return home for the funeral of one of our most adored patriarchs, I am torn between happiness and sadness. I am happy because I know that my grandmother’s broken heart, from losing my grandfather three and a half years ago, is mended for eternity. My sadness comes as I wonder, with both grandparents gone from earth, how our family will remain glued together and who will step up and into such loving shoes?
Since I was born, my grandmother had loved without judgement and always with great care. Her kind words gave us hope during rough times and brought great satisfaction to our souls. When we had family get-togethers, I would travel across the country just to see her and feel her loving arms wrap around me. She wanted nothing more than for our family to be close. She wanted us to always be together and forgive wounds of the past. She wanted healing for each of us though none of us could heal her from aging. Today, as grandmother rested in her white box with painted on flowers and a pink interior, her wish came true, at least for today. Her family was together and things once thought important or hurtful between family members had been forgotten, maybe even forgiven, as we relished in her legacy and offering us a life-long gift: love!