Yesterday was memorial day. Death is not something that I have had a lot of experience dealing with on a directly personal level. Only once. Only when my young grandpa of 65 died suddenly while at work doing a remodel of an old house. I remember the disbelief, and the denial, until I remembered that families are eternal, and we are all bound together, and the separation is temporary. It gave me such peace. I don't think any other knowledge would make watching my sweet grandmother on her lonely days bearable.
I have seen several good friends deal with death at an even closer proximity. Three of my best friends in the worlds have lost parents. Two to cancer, and one to a horrible accident. These three friends dealt with it in such an incredible way. They clung to the knowledge of the Gospel, and the fact that the rest of the time in this life without them will be less than a pinprick in the line of eternity.
I have often wondered what death would feel like without this knowledge. What if I had to question whether or not I would see my precious family again? My mind doesn't wrap around it. Every feeling in my body rejects the very thought or possibility. The pain is enough with the truth. I can truly understand people who never fully recover emotionally who don't know it. I can not express the gratitude I feel for my faith, and the knowledge it brings of eternal families. I need that eternity. I have a husband that I need to spend an eternity loving and knowing. A lifetime does not yield enough time to know a person completely.
So Grandpa, today I'm thinking about you. I'm thinking about how on that last day I saw you, you woke me from my nap with one of my favorite whisker kisses. I remember your flannel shirts, and your hats that barely sat on your head. I remember how you could never tell a satisfactory joke because you would start laughing so hard before the punch line that you couldn't finish it. I remember everything. I love you. I will see you soon.
karlie jean
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