I have restarted this post six times.
I am very rarely at a loss for words, but today is one of those times.
It’s a difficult thing to watch someone you love hurt, and it’s no secret that I don’t get along too well with difficult things.
But things happen. And you can’t do anything about it.
Almost exactly a year ago, my husband lost his grandmother. She had been very sick for a long time, but when she went she was lucid and…well, there. She said her goodbyes. There was closure.
This week, Josh said goodbye to his grandfather.
This was much different, in that over the last year (longer than that, really) we’d all watched his steady loss of reality. He wasn’t totally without moments of clarity, but they gradually became fewer and farther between.
I never really knew Josh’s grandparents. Well, I did, but obviously not the way he did. I watch him hurt and I wish I could fix things. I wish I could share those memories.
I remember, though, my own grandfathers and the time I had with them. I think about how short the time I had with them was and how much I miss them. I think about my grandmothers and how they still remember their husbands so fondly. I think about the times I was around Josh’s grandparents together, and how they were the very picture of everything I want my marriage to be. How if I’d had longer I would have loved to hear all the stories they no doubt had to tell.
I have no words to say to make anything better. I wish I did.
The end of this circle is complete. What a beautiful time it was. I wish I’d had more time to be a part of it.