This past week has been full, and today we are given the gift of a holiday. This holiday doesn’t come cheaply and isn’t free, and there are those who have given their life so that I can have breathing room today. I want to acknowledge that.
There are multitudes of thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart, all vying for attention, all demanding to be dealt with and heard. I can’t deal with it all right now. I can’t blog it or post it immediately, but I can let it churn around and process and let pieces settle where they may and work on breaking down.
Remember the whole composting the heart thing?
Each Memorial Day there is a service at the cemetery up the road. We can walk there, and it’s where Grampy is buried. The family walked up this morning, carrying flags and wedding flowers to place on his grave.
We stood through the brief ceremony.
We visited the grave site.
None of these children had been born when he died. Kieran remembers Grampy. He was three.
And then, just to demonstrate how God never fails to surprise us, this happened.
We are blessed.