And that is dying...

Jon's grandfather has been struggling in the hospital for the past 6 weeks. It's unfortunate that the inevitable has sort of been riding on everyone's back. He has made it obvious that he's spoken to past relatives on the other side, and I fear his time is close. I have lost not many, but a few in my 23 years; I have tried my best to be a listener and a comforter throughout this experience for Jon and his family members, especially my mother-in-law and his youngest sister Sarah. My hopes are that they can be comforted during this time, and that whether grandpa Udie makes it out alive or not, death is not final. He has made it very clear that he will be going to a place where he will be extremely loved and greeted by family with open arms. I can only hope that one day when it is my time, that I will be shown the same affection from loved ones that I have lost. Throughout all of this I wanted to share a poem that reminds us that death can be beautiful and it's never goodbye.


I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!''Gone where?' Gone from my sight. That is all.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!' there are other eyes watching her coming, and the other voices ready to take up the glad shout 'Here she comes!' And that is dying.

*To those I have loved and lost, I miss you and I will be happy to be greeted by you again someday*