Today was quite the day. I'm in the midst of a transition to a new place and am on a massive job hunt— it's exciting and nerve wracking all at once.
What made today different from the past few days, though, was the death of my Opa. He and I were never particularly close, but he lived at my Dad's house since I was eight. This meant that I saw him every weekend when I lived in Humboldt, and on all holidays since I've moved away. He has been a present figure in my life for quite some time. His death wasn't unexpected. He had been sick for years and, while I can't claim to empathize with having a chronic disease or with dying, I can only assume that this transition marked the end of a lot of physical and mental suffering he had been enduring. There are a couple moments growing up, listening to his stories and singing rounds around the dinner table, that brought me happiness and that I want to honor now.
I'm grateful for his life, and that it lead to my father's life and mine. I'm grateful that he is no longer in pain. I'm grateful that this provides me an opportunity to come together with my father's side of my family. I'm grateful that I have a phone and can call my Oma and my dad. I'm grateful for all of the love that has surrounded me and my family today.
Connection is a wonderful thing.