This past weekend I attended two services for my grandmother who passed away recently. One was similarly structured to how my father’s was, while the other was a small graveside ceremony. Both services were extremely heavy and difficult for me. I mean, that is my grandmother after all. That along with everything else going on in my life of course. But that isn’t the point of this blog post. So, let’s get on with it.

My relationship with my grandmother was not as close as I would have liked it to have been, but unfortunately that was out of both of our control. My grandmother had dementia, and it was pretty difficult to have a coherent conversation with her. It was hard to see truthfully, seeing my grandmother broken down to a state where she didn’t even know my name. But even though she barely remembered me due to her dementia, I remember her and remember the memories I have with her. I remember her cats, playing old maid with her (the card game), her distinct laugh, and her witty humor, much like my father’s. I wish I was older when I formed these memories so I could have a deeper appreciation of them, but that is of course out of my control.

We as humans tend to think of death as a finality. A day will come when we will die, and that’s that. We cease to exist, just put in the ground along with billions of others. Death is death, plain and simple.

I don’t quite see it that way though. Think about it, even with my grandmother gone, she is still extremely prevalent in my life. I mean those memories I have, no matter how long ago, will be with me for the rest of my life. I’ll tell my kids about their great grandma, with her curly grey hair and her adoration for cats. She’ll live on for decades after she has passed. Same with my dad; I still have all the memories, all the stories, and will continue to learn more about him even after his passing. He will live on.

Jesus himself died, on the cross no less. Died for us, for our sins, so that we might go to Heaven. But I digress, just like everyone else in this world will, he died. Dead as a doornail he was, just lying in that tomb wrapped in linens. Until of course he wasn’t.

While Jesus lived on in a much more literal sense than my father and grandmother, the sentiment remains the same. The idea of Jesus, the thoughts, the memories, lived on. Besides, he did end up leaving again and going up to Heaven, so my example makes sense. I mean, we are still talking about him today, aren’t we?

Death does sting, there is no doubt about that. There is not a day that goes by that I wish both my father and grandmother were still here in the flesh. But while they are not here physically, they are still here in my heart and in the hearts of all those around me. And thanks to Jesus’s sacrifice, I will be able to go and see them again one day, that I know for sure.

A much shorter post than my last one, you’re welcome for that. I don’t really have much else to say other than that Relay for Life is this Friday (the 17^th) and if you are able, you should come out and support. Will it be in the sweltering heat? Maybe, but it is for a good cause after all. But I bid you all adieu, may God bless you all in whatever it is you do.

(Gone Away by The Offspring)