The day before Thanksgiving I lost Pap, my grandfather, in one of the most tragic ways possible. It happened in such a way that leaves you in utter shock and sick to your stomach. You almost can't grieve because you don't believe what you just found out- your mind almost refuses to believe what actually happened. You can't sleep because you keep replaying in your mind over and over again what their last moments were like and what they were thinking. And you keep asking yourself if there was anything that you could have done differently. If you could have sent one more email or made one more phone call, would that have changed everything? You keep wondering how long they were hurting and suffering and what brought them to that point. His death brought up much more hurt and sadness than I've ever felt. And here I am, a week later, still trying to process what actually happened. Still trying to rationalize in my mind what he was going through and why he did it.
It's awful. I can't put into words how awful it is. You are left with so many questions and no answers- and the worst part is I know I will never get any answers.
At church on Sunday Laura Story's song "Blessings" was sang during the offering and I know for a fact that God knew my family needed to hear that song. That we needed to be reminded that this pain that we're feeling is a reminder that this is not our home. That this world is so incredibly far from perfect. And that the "aching of this life is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy."
One of the verses my brother and I read at his funeral was 1 Thessalonians 4:13:
"Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him."
And so I don't grieve like the rest of mankind who have no hope after death. I know that Jesus Christ lives and this is not the end. So I trust in Pap's faith that he had. I trust that I will see him again.
But until then, I'll miss him.
Love you Pap. |