I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality lately.
Four years ago, my maternal grandparents passed away within a several weeks of each other. They were the first funerals of family members I had been to since before I can remember (actually, I don’t know if I was physically present when my paternal grandfather Bob died – I think I was 3 or 4?). While I hadn’t seen them for a few years, it still was difficult to realize I would definitely not see them again in this lifetime and that I would have to rely upon memories, memorabilia and pictures.
Last spring my fraternal grandmother Virginia died. That one I took a bit harder… while I had visited all of my grandparents quite frequently growing up, I remember flying out on my own to see her every summer. Having suffered from polio as a young woman (she gave birth to my dad while in an iron lung), she had to rely on crutches and wheelchairs for mobility… but that didn’t detract from her independence and strength of will one iota. She would take me grocery shopping with her, go to the pool at her condo complex with me every day, take me to the local library, have me help her sweep out her patio, and all kinds of things which were a combo of fun and chore. I remember she even taught me how to hold my dining utensils like an adult. So suffice it to say when she passed, it was a huge recognition that someone who helped form me to who I am today had moved on and out of this immediate life.
This year is proving to be a tough one for my husband’s side of the family: his fraternal grandparents are both struggling with their health; his uncle is in the hospital and his prognosis isn’t positive; his step-mother is also now dealing with some major health issues; his maternal grandmother seems to be shutting down physically also. We are preparing ourselves for goodbyes coming down the pipe.
I often sit on the front steps of our house with my 3 year old son at dusk… it’s just something we enjoy doing together. Today as we sat together watching the sprinklers spray our lawn and keeping an eye out for bats, I thought about how much longer he may have with his grandparents (my own parents and my husband’s parents). Naturally I began to wonder how I’ll even handle it when my parents eventually pass on… they obviously not Peter-Pan-style happy thoughts. It definitely brings on the somber dwellings and realizations that our life is so temporary and how fleeting moments can be. All of us have that tunnel, dead ahead, coming closer to us with each passing minute. It’s like when you’re driving on the curvy mountain roads… you can see the peaks ever teasing you just ahead, and keep thinking it’ll be around the next bend only to find it’s just another ridge on the way. But eventually the valley will open and we’ll all see our tunnel. I just hope I have a solid number of dusky evenings on the front porch before I see mine.
