“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not a mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love.”
I am happy to be in such a whirlwind of busyness .... my tears are less frequent and of shorter duration. But almost daily.
Braeden reminds me so much of Mr. Ralph. He has so many memories of his Poppa that I am thankful we needed to help out with him so much those first two and a half years. We all reinforce the memories. It must be working. When Daddy had to put a broken toy truck in a box to send to "toy heaven" Braeden said "so Poppa can play with it?". Oh yeh. Tear time! He is such a sensitive little man. If he notices that either Kate or I look sad he says "Are you missing Poppa? I am too." So even he condones the signs of grief.
I haven't seen a lot of my Oregon friends since his death, so when they tell me how sorry they are and ask how I'm doing, it's impossible not to tear up. At least now I can still talk rather than totally choking up. I brought his ashes with me (some in Maui still) hoping we can have a couple of family gatherings at his favorite places so we can sprinkle him about. Kate especially needs closure.
She is urging me to have a celebration-of-life party. He really did NOT want any of that, or funeral, but maybe if we come up with a different name and theme ...