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He loved her with all his heart

which made him wonder how would he ever know

when it's time to say goodbye

when it's time to let her go?

He was thinking about their life together

when his heart let out a sigh

as he knelt down and held her hand he wondered...

Was it was time to say goodbye?

He sat there with her hand in his

in silence for a while

until he noticed from her eyes…a tear

and on her lips…a smile.

He leaned over whispered, “I love you.”

then gently kissed her on her head.

"I will always love you.” 

are the last words she ever said.

Suddenly the answer came to him

as his tears began to flow…

He found the strength to say goodbye

knowing he will never let her go.

He can’t explain it logically

but once he found her…

the person he adored

his heart felt like it grew…

larger than it had ever been before.

And when she died

when she was finally gone…

never more to be

he wondered if what he felt 

was his heart breaking

or simply 

returning to the size it used to be

When our grandma died as a family we were heartbroken, confused…and sad

to understand how to act…we looked to our mom and dad.

It’s never easy to say goodbye…so many feelings get in the way

We search through our emotions for soothing words to say.

Mom and Dad said Grandma was important to all of us…

how we all loved her smile, her warmth her glow…

They told us the fact we shared so much love with her…

is what makes her death hurt so…

It’s all the wonderful memories we made with her they said

that’s makes her death unfair….

all the good times we had leave us saddened 

for all the good times we’ll no longer share…

The places we’ll never visit with her…the happiness she’ll no longer bring

The cookies she’ll no longer bake…the songs she’ll no longer sing…

Then Emma, the oldest daughter, said, we will miss her I’m sure this is true

but won’t Grandma, once she gets up to heaven…won’t she be missing us too?

This is when Mom and Dad got an idea…they ran to the kitchen, opened a drawer

when they returned they set it in front of us…what would become known as Grandma’s jar.

They handed us some paper and pencils and said, “Write down what Grandma meant to you.”

We’ll put all your writings in this jar…so Grandma can remember them too.

“But how will she read it from heaven?” Emma asked.

Dad said, “Emma, at the end of the day

your grandma is pretty resourceful…

I’m sure she will find a way”.

“And we will leave this jar unopened,” Mom said, 

“so whenever something happens you’d like to share

just drop a note into the jar…Grandma will take if from there.”

And we wrote notes to Grandma from that moment on 

until the time came we were all grown

At that point as we left our house we were given a jar of our own…

I like to think Grandma is always watching…

but if she’s too busy up there among the stars…

If she wants to know what I’ve been up too…

all she has to do is look in her jar.

There is a specific kind of loneliness when you lose someone you love

It is difficult to explain…

For some it’s like a hole in their heart…

For others…a permanent stain.

It’s specific for each person

We have our own joys…our own agonies

housed within our hearts…in specific memories

We spend our years making these memories…from every January to December….

after a person dies we spend the rest of our years

trying to remember….

We easily remember the big moments…momentous laugher…meaningful tears

But we find as our mind searches through its memories

It’s the little things we hold dear.

It’s a smile shared from across a room

It’s walks together in the sand

It’s seeing the sparkle in their eyes

It’s quietly holding hands.

It’s a hug for no reason whatsoever…just to show how much we care

It’s a kiss on the back of the neck…It’s those quiet moments that we shared…

When that specific loneliness enters our life…we have no choice but to face it…

But if we’re lucky for every moment of loneliness

we have a memory to replace it…

And when we stop and think it through…when into our memories we dig…

We wonder at what point in life…all our little things became so big? 

And though we know nothing will ever take away the ache

it is possible for the pain to be appeased

by filling up our specific loneliness

with specific memories…

He was the great procrastinator

He had a knack…a way

of putting off until tomorrow

what he should have done today…

His life was filled with ‘not todays’

Many responsibilities he would shun

When he looked at a task, “Not today!” he would say 

and many things he left undone

As he was about to die 

his family sat by his bed to pray

they asked if he was ready 

he smiled… “Not today”.

“There’s still so much I want to see.” he said

“So much I want do.  

tomorrow I’ll be ready instead

perhaps…when the day is new”.

“Not today.” he said with a sigh

“there’re still a few lessons I’d like to instill.”

“Not today.” he repeated …  “and here is why…

they’re still a few promises I’ve yet to fill.”

But death is unsympathetic.

We don’t get to choose the day

“Not today.” he whispered the last time closed his eyes

and silently drifted away.

So many questions in this world we cannot answer…

No one can tell us why…

Why do tragedies happen everyday?

Why do children have to die? 

This is the story of one child…

I wish I was singing a happier tune

but this child’s story is over…it ended much too soon.

She did not enter this world peacefully…although her birth was a joyous day

there were complications from the beginning…and more obstacles along the way.

Her story ended a few days ago…at least now she’s out of harm…

She has a place in heaven…she’s in the angel’s arms.

Her parents handled each setback with dignity…with courage…and with grace….

as they tried to cope with the kind of heartache no family should face.

There were trips to hospitals and surgeries…so much going on inside her

and her parents shared her pain and suffering as they stood stoically beside her.

It is a testament to their love…that as they suffered through the haze…

in the midst of all their sorrow…they found joy in other ways

For they loved their little daughter…that was plain for all to see

and they did the best they could to give her life some harmony.

I hope as the years go by…when they stop 

when they pause a while…

they will remember more of the joy than the suffering…

and when they think of her…

they’ll smile.

Perhaps one day their questions will be answered…

when they join their daughter…out of harm

when they hold her again heaven…

when they’re together…

in the angel’s’ arms.

Her daughter loved visiting the older couple who lived next door

but after the lady’s husband died the daughter said, “I don’t want to visit her anymore.”

“She’s so sad every time I see her…and she still talks to her husband too.

It makes me a little uncomfortable…I don’t know what to do.”

Her mom said, “I understand your feelings but surely you have to see

now that her husband is gone…how lonely she must be.”

“But what can I do to help her?” she asked…”She’s acting awful strange.

It’s not the same when I visit now…everything has changed.”

Her mom looked into her eyes then patter her on her head.

“I think the best thing you can do…is just be her friend.” she said.

“Let her be sad, let her cry, let her be somber. let her be grim…

Remember she lost someone she loved…and she wasn’t done loving him.”

“I imagine right now she needs a friend…who quietly by her side will stay

and listen…just listen…until her sorrow fades away.”

And so the daughter followed her mom’s suggestion…

and though she’s not sure exactly when

slowly she noticed her friend began to smile again.

She began talking about other things…found other reasons to be glad…

until the day thoughts of her husband…no longer made her sad.

And the daughter learned a valuable lesson…

about how one doesn’t always have to intercede….

sometimes just knowing a friend is near 

is all a person needs.

She received a lot of advice after her Grandpa died

It seemed to come in waves…

They said Grandpa was in a better place…They told her to be brave.

Be brave for your grandpa they said…he wouldn’t want you to be sad…

Be brave for your bothers and sisters…be brave for your mom and dad

She remembers being somewhat confused from all the advice they gave

She was just a young girl…What did she know about brave?

She ran to her Dad and asked, “Dad! What’s the correct way to behave?

When we go to Grandpa’s funeral…What do they mean…be brave?”

"People mean well when they say be brave.” Dad said, 

“But you are kind and loving and smart,

I think the best advice on how to be brave is to listen to your heart.”

“What is your heart telling you?” he asked.

Then she looked up at her dad

“My heart is saying it’s broken…It’s telling me I’m sad.”

“It’s telling me I miss him …It wants to know why he died.”

“It’s telling me it hurts…It’s telling me to cry”.

Dad nodded saying…”Grandpa made us smile so many time over the years.

We never think how one day those smiles will be the reason for our tears.”

“Don’t give a second thought to what people say or think today,” he said,

“or any time you say goodbye”.

“Be brave enough to be yourself…Be brave enough to cry”.

She related this conversation word for word to her daughter

about what it means to be brave

while happy memories made them cry

As they stood at Grandpa’s grave.

Somebody died today…it’s part of life’s ebb and flow

but what makes this day so different is…this somebody was somebody I know.

She had a full life, my somebody…filled with many highs and some lows…

but Death is unsympathetic…when it comes our time to go.

Yet how lucky we are has humans… 

for although in death…of her presence we’re deprived

the myriad of memories we created…in a way keeps her alive…

And that’s where our sadness originates…

That’s why we feel so bereft…

not from all those memories we created together 

but that those memories are all I have left.

We know Death has taken her from us…but in Death there is a plus

for Death has left her memories behind…Death can’t take those away from us.

When we want to, when we have the urge…we can visit her a while

Just by closing our eyes and remembering…

her voice, 

her eyes…

her smile…

And for a moment in our silence…as more and more memories arrive

it’s as if she never left us…as if she’s still alive

And when our eyes reopen

we smile remembering all the memories we’ve sewn

and we feel blessed 

she was a somebody we were lucky enough to have known. 

Which gives us all hope for the time when Death comes too our door

as part of life’s ebb and flow

That we, too, will have been lucky enough

to be somebody…somebody knows.