“Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners And the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
We rise and we fall And we break
And we make our mistakes“
-”Wait For It” - Hamilton
I saw a shadow the other day. The build and gait of a man - my cousins’ grandfather - who I haven’t seen in a long time. Someone who has left us for “the other side” - even if we don’t know what that is. Seeing this shadow was a blessing, bringing back warm memories of a man who stamped my childhood with his presence. He left us shortly after our mutual grandfather did - we have reached the age where this happens. Where those who put their indelible mark on our memories start leaving us. It is an important passage of time - and, frankly, it stinks.
It happened in 2nd grade - I remember. Shortly after my mother’s father died it seemed that we hit a landmark year where many of us lost grandparents too soon. Cancer, cardiac - all those reasons as adults we know can take someone early.
Then we hit a sweet spot. Many of us got to have grandparents bless us at graduations, weddings - some even becoming great-grandparents. Being among the oldest grandchildren on my father’s side, I didn’t appreciate the youth my grandparents were still enjoying while they celebrated with my sister and me. And, man, did I take it for granted. I still do - more now pretending that my last grandparent isn’t in her mid-80s - this tough cookie I look up to more than she will ever know - pretending there is plenty of time, when, I know, logically, that there is not.
Then they leave us. And the heartbreak is something different than that of a lost love. We swim through the waves, watch our parents, aunts, uncles grieve. Realize that we have been standing on the edge of the burials for so long until it was our turn. But, they stay, as a cornerstone in our being.
They stay - as we grow in our marriages, get new cars, change jobs, buy houses, have more babies... all the things we want them to be a part of - they are there. And we know, because we see the shadows. Sometimes in the gait of someone walking down the street, sometimes in the flickering of a Christmas light on the tree, sometimes in our tears and dreams.
And our grief changes: as a parent, if we are lucky, we start to realize, as an observer, the unique love between a grandchild and grandparent. And, man, as awesome as that is to see, there are those moments when you miss having that person for you. That person who is never really disappointed in you (especially when it seems all you do is disappoint your parents); that person who takes pure joy in seeing you and your kisses; that person who you know is proud of you, even if they are only telling their friends and not you.
Maybe it’s not only just a grandparent - maybe it’s the conductors of community bands you’ve played with since college; maybe it’s the coach of your softball or football or track team; maybe it’s the first boss you had. At 30-something, we’ve reached that age where that generation of love is leaving us in this realm, as we are dealing with so many other “grown-up” things.
All we can say is, please, please keep sending us shadows and glimpses of your love. We need it now more than anything.
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