I remember when my two grandfathers passed away within 6 months of each other being very concerned that my Grandma must live so that when I got married and had kids they would at least have one great-grandparent from my side ( I was 10 at the time).
My grandmother is still going strong and my kids know who she is and have a relationship with her.
When my sons were born I thouhgt about what life would hold for them. I thought about a brit, going to gan, school, a bar mitzva, army, university, marriage and children. I imagined watching them growing up and always being surrounded by a warm loving family.
I never imagined there would be only one grandfather at the bar mitzva. I never imagined that it would be a grandparent missing. I had never planned for that space at the table. I never thought it would happen so soon.
It's remembering who he was. His sense of fun, his devotion, his compassion, his commitment and trying to adjust to a world without these. Accepting that there are (hopefully) many many celebrations to come that he won't be there to share with us.
Accepting the new reality.
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