Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives
-A.Sachs
-A.Sachs
Today, I witnessed a beautiful part of death. A part of death that I pray one day I have the privilege to enjoy…many, many years from now.
Last week, my wife’s 88-year-old grandmother moved here to Salt Lake to live out the final years of her life. Elizabeth (Grandma) is a sweet, tiny, feisty woman whom I have fallen in love with since I entered this family a few years ago.
Today, four generations of Kauffman’s (Elizabeth’s family) gathered to rifle through all the goods Grandma has acquired over the years. Three of Grandma’s four daughters were present. The pages of photos albums could be heard being turned when the laughter faded, and the legacy and lineage of every piece of silverware and stemware were discussed. During a pause in the action, which resembled an old world marketplace, one of Grandma’s son-in-laws put the gathering into perspective.
“I hope one day I have a chance to do this”, he said.
Grandma is very lucky to be surrounded by her loved ones and to say her goodbyes piece by piece. She has the great fortune of sharing the last years of her life with those that have made it wonderful.
All too often, I have found myself counting on having this great opportunity that Grandma has been afforded. This, unfortunately, is not always the reality.
Since moving away from home last year, simple dinners with my family and front porch conversations have far more meaning. The things I used to take for granted are far more precious. I understand that every time I go to leave, it could be the last time I see my parents. It is sad and unlikely, but it is also a possibility.
Since my move, my Dad and I have created a new tradition. We over-hug. We hug in the middle of doing nothing. We hug hello, we hug goodbye. And when my trip is coming to a close, I have found that we hug, we walk are separate ways, and we quickly return for one last hug as if to say, ”just in case”.
We are not all afforded the luxury Elizabeth has. My Dad was not with his father when his father died, and many people across this world have suffered the same fate. Many of us would give anything for one last hug.
The most important lesson I have learned in my short time here on earth is this: always tell the ones you love that you love them — you might never get another chance.
My parents have made this a common teaching throughout our family’s lifespan, and I commend them for this. It is important. We are not guaranteed tomorrow, so we must take advantage of today.
Rachel, thanks for letting be a part of your blog, but more importantly thanks for letting me be a part of your wonderful life. You are the world’s greatest oldest sister, and I love you very much.
I remember the days in Sunday School (before Fr. Tim was Fr. Tim) when your Dad would come to give you a lot of “hugs”.
Boy was that a fun time. Thanks for the neat story. It is my prayer that I can be with my Dad and Mom when He calls them home. Although, I have put in an order that that not happen until – Never!!!
Beautiful!! In my family, we never end a conversation on the phone without saying “I love you”. I lost my 90 year old grandmother last summer, and I did not have the luxury of living near her. The entire family had traveled to see her about 4 months before her death, to celebrate her 90th birthday, and although it was very hard to drive 2 days there and 2 days back with 4 small children, I will never regret a moment of that trip.
OHHHHHH! Josh we love you!!!! Fabulous Story….
What a beautiful story!. Thanks for sharing it Josh!
Good Morning, Sweet Young Man. What a wonderful post. Keen insight, a heart of gratitude and a sense of what is most important. May our Dear Lord continue to draw you to Himself and prepare you for all he has for you in this life and in the Life to come.I know for a fact your mother must be very proud of you. I love you….
Mom+