This past week was a beautiful but painful journey. I flew to Wisconsin to be with family and hopefully say good-bye to my dear 91-year-old grandfather and unexpectedly stayed about a week. After a delayed flight and little sleep, my mother and I arrived at my grandparents’, and Grandpa was unresponsive; he died that night, surrounded by several family members.
I was a lucky family member to have my hands on Grandpa as he took his last breaths. In all of my experiences with death and with deceased loved ones of my own and others, I have not witnessed the actual passing. Not long before Grandpa transitioned, when I first arrived that day and stepped into his room, I knew he was close to death, and the amazing, kind in-home hospice workers seemed to know. He lay there, eyes closed, breathing smoothly but with the help of oxygen, on a hospital bed in my grandmother’s room. I also could see that his mother, my great-grandmother whom I’d known for awhile before she passed in her 90s, was holding his hand in a comforting way in spirit. Later that day, when Grandpa transitioned with several of us with him, I saw his mother and father holding his hands in a blinding-light, open space, along with several of his deceased siblings, friends and other relatives. That’s perhaps when I finally found I could cry—with sadness and joy.
Many of my family members have either not known of “what I do” (ex. seeing the deceased, offering professional intuitive and reiki services) or have been afraid of these things when I’ve shared in the past. But this trip held lovely shifts of all kinds. One of many gifts out of my week with family in Wisconsin is feeling relief with having shared what and whom I saw with Grandpa—and having their listening ears, acceptance and interest.
Another gift was a main message of the chaplain that my grandmother called that night; this amazing woman brought much comfort with her presence and faith, and she coordinated a brief intentional service around my grandfather’s body, once all of his children had arrived. As she began, she shared that she’d lost her own husband many years ago and that he lived by the following words: “Life is a gift—not a given.” Those words rang through me in a necessary way then and continue to add special meaning at this time. I know my grandpa respected this gift, and I’ve learned this lesson so many times, but these words deserve repeating and sharing as often as possible. I had more time this lifetime with my grandfather than my own father.
Our losses, our grief, are not easy elements to digest on this physical plane. We are so fortunate to receive opportunities that challenge and shape us into beings we would not be without them.
Rest in peace, dear “Gruntpa,” beloved “Sugar Ray.” He was 91—a long, wide life lived—and was married to my grandmother, a beautiful saint of a soul, for 64 years. While holidays can bring pangs of sadness for our loved ones no longer with us, actively remember and commemorate them in ways most meaningful. I know that this Christmas will hold many toasts ending with “Here’s lookin’ at ya,” just as Grandpa always said.
E, I’m sorry for your loss, but thankful for such beautiful words and knowledge that he was surrounded by much love. You are special in so many ways. K
What a lovely and touching story to share with us. My heart is cracked and open in simpatico with yours. My tears with you are of sorrow and joy. I am so happy and amazed that the gift your grandpa gave in his passing was to bridge new understanding with your family of who you are and the gifts available to them through you. Blessings in the ever present Light.
Dianna, thank you, thank you. I know you get it and so appreciate your Light and shared tears and heart. Muah, Erika
K, thanks so much for your always-perfect, kind words. 🙂 Looking forward to connecting sooner than later. love, E
My love to you and your family. You are all in my prayers.
Dori
Thanks so much, sweet and amazing Dori!
Lots of love to you, Erika – beautiful blog post. 🙂
Jen, love returned. Thank you so much.
Thank you Erika. I love you! ♥ ♥ Mom
Love you, Mom. 🙂
Thanks so much Erika for sharing these events! Although I cried when you first shared some of them with me, they were mostly tears of joy and amazement knowing that my Dad was on his way and is now truly in a better place! I wish you could convert more believers. You truly have a gift that I would love to tap into more in the future. I love you! Lots of hugs! <3<3<3 Nancy
Aw, Nancy, your sentiments mean a lot–sincerely. Glad we could all be together during such a difficult and beautiful time. Look at how lucky our family is to have each other! Looking forward to seeing you for Christmas.
Thank you for the family portrait–even to an outsider, your account is moving. As always, your blog post made me feel grateful for the wonder of people’s lives woven together, here and in spirit.
Amber, woman with gift of words and amazing soul, thank you. I look forward to getting in touch soon. Love, Erika
I’m both happy and sad reading this. (Crying actually) Sad because you lost someone you loved. Glad because you were able to be there when your grandpa passed. I’m sure he knew you were, and was comforted by your presence. It must have been very special to witness his being reunited with family and friends that had gone before him.
Aw, thanks so much, Chris! Thank you for your heartfelt words. Definitely both a difficult and beautiful experience, all around–loss teaches us *so* much.
Hope you’ve been well. Happy Holidays! Take care. Much Light.
Sad, yet wonderful. Thank you Erika, for sharing your beautiful experience (and beautiful self) with all of us. I feel blessed you are my friend.
Vonalda, I sincerely appreciate your response and readership. I’ve thought of you so often lately; I’ve been needing to do some major catch-up since I’ve returned to Boulder. Hope to see you soon! Big hugs and many blessings your way.
Nice post Erika, beautiful piece and glad you were there with him.
Thanks, dear Kyle! 🙂 Hope you’re well, hon. Big hugs!
All your blog posts are moving and illuminating, but for whatever reason, this one really affected me. Indeed, this Saturday, I’m treating myself to a therapy day and my mantra, if you will, will be, “Life is a gift; not a given.” Thank you for sharing this Erika.
Thanks for your kind words, Colin. Glad the moving experience translated to a moving read–always a goal. 🙂 Yay, therapy day and mantra! Much gratitude.