Seeing it better.

Why is it that when death hits you close to home you start seeing it everywhere?
My grandfather passed away on July 3rd at about 7am. Howard Preston was my paternal grandfather. I loved him dearly in spite of his short comings. I give him credit for being a loving husband to his wife, a father to eight children and a grandfather to 23 grandchildren. He lead a full life but passed away due to complications from Alzheimer's at the age of 83.

I like to remember him best from the dulling memories of my childhood, his eyes still shining. I'd like to hold onto that image of him and smash the image of him in death from my thoughts. My husband and I attended a service filled with fond memories, love and laughter. There were tears, but only with smiles behind them. It is always hard to lose those closest to you. A hard blow even when we all know it is inevitable.

Howard suffered from Alzheimer's for the last few years of his life. He forgot more and more. In a way, he was already gone when the spark of life left his body. I saw it with clarity at my wedding in October 2008. He smiled up at me with child like eyes full of wonder at the reception. He had no idea who I was right then, but I knew he was enjoying himself. The candle light and the castle, each emotion a fleeting moment in the flickering light. It makes me a bit sad reflecting back on the goodbye that night. In many ways it was a good bye of monumental proportions. I couldn't know at the time, but it really was a final goodbye.

Hiding from the inevitable only makes the shock of reality more difficult when it comes. Each life on this planet is undeniably short. I find it sad to think that I've let nearly 30 years of mine slip on by. I can only hope and strive to make the next 30 evermore memorable. I will strive to see it in the light of hope, love and laughter. I will strive to make a positive impact on those around me that I already know and to make more, lasting relationships with those I've yet to meet.

I'm trying to take a better look at life through the loss of it.