I posted this week over at A Deeper Story about the passing of my grandfather and a moment of confirmation about the direction of my life:
This past October my paternal grandfather just stopped breathing one morning. He was 92. He had lived a full life and had spent a good deal of time with his family throughout retirement. We knew this day was coming. All the same, nothing prepares you for the grief of loss. My dad called me about 30 minutes after it happened. I was making lunch for our toddler and warming up a bottle for our newborn. Lunch had to go on even as I heard the news of Pop Pop’s passing.
While I quietly processed his loss, our toddler jumped and danced to a drum line video on YouTube while our newborn gulped and guzzled his bottle, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I couldn’t just stop and grieve at that precise moment when the wind got knocked out of me. These two little people needed to eat. Playing is what they do. They wouldn’t understand what was going on.
Even as I absorbed the news, I also knew that I was doing the exact thing I wanted to do and felt called to do. At that moment I was caring for my boys, and I couldn’t resent them.