Crocuses are starting to sprout in my front yard, despite the fact that we’re still nowhere near Spring. The weather has been rather mild lately, and that’s probably the flowers are making their appearances. The shops are even selling daffodils and tulips already.
Today, we buried my grandfather. It was my first funeral. I am loath to admit it, but I didn’t really feel much. The only time I cried was during the elegy, and that’s only because it hit a few sensitive notes for me. Amongst the meeting of all the relatives and friends of the family, most of whom I’ve either never met or can’t remember their names, I realized that we really don’t talk much with our extended family. I have so many aunts and cousins that I’ve probably never even heard of.
Spring is the time of new life and, while we’re not quite there yet, it gives me pause to wonder about our tendency to forget the life that’s already there. I didn’t have much of a relationship with my grandfather in his final years, and I can’t really say that I will miss him, but if the tears at his funeral were any indication, his absence will still affect others.
I pray for my mother, my aunt and uncle, and all my other relatives who are most affected by his loss. He will be missed, but at least we can rest knowing that he is with God in Heaven now, happier. Maybe, when I get to go to heaven myself, I will be able to greet him with all the joy I used to feel as a child. I can only pray. I love you, grandpa.