This Sunday, May 26th, 2019, my family and I held a memorial dinner for my grandparents. They passed within months of each other. It was hard for their families, but for the widower, the harshest reality had come to pass. No one blamed my grand father for the conscientious objection to his own breathing. He had Parkinsons and was able to decide, a gift from God.
I think about what I can do to make them proud of me. I think about what their best intentions were for me. And I hope that what I believe is true. I hope that they are together, in their bliss, on an ethereal plane without pain. I hope that when they look towards my present moment, we can share in joy at experiencing happiness. Only in their passing could they hold the mirror to me, my siblings, my cousins. They will forever be missed and remembered as an example of how to love and be loved in return. And in the power of their faith.