33 Years Ago

 33 years ago this Christmas, I watched you as you walked up the stairs to bed.  You paused and looked down at all of us in the living room that evening.  It was the last time I saw you alive on this Earth.  My last memory of you.

Today it hit me hard that you have been gone for more than 1/2 of my life.  I don't understand how that can be since you are with me everyday.  I see you all the time.  I see me on your back when you use to carry me down the stairs in the mornings, I see you sitting in your chair reading the newspapers, I see you in the kitchen with mommy, I see you over and over again.  I talk to you frequently as well.  And I talk about you all the time.  As I face challenges and decisions, I stop and think what would you do.  You've gotten me through some hard things.

33 years ago when I found out that you passed away in your sleep,  I didn't cry.  I couldn't cry.  There was too much of a big gap to fill.  I needed to be strong.  The hardest thing Bill and I had to do was to tell grandma that you were gone.  She cried enough tears for all of us.

Today I cried.  

33 years ago I thought there was some grand purpose to you leaving.  That this was all part of God's plan.  Today I am not so certain of that.  Maybe it was. But one thing I do know for sure is that God has provided a plan for families to live together forever.  

I imagine you looking down on us as you left this life and even still.  So much like that Christmas night 33 years ago when you paused to look at us from the steps.  I felt your love for us on those stairs.  Your wanting to stay.  I feel it still.