This morning while getting ready for work, my mother called me and let me know that my grandfather in Indiana had passed away. Everything just stops in that moment, as if a door with no doorknob has been closed in your face. He's just gone.
His name was Walter and he was a chaplain in World War II. He met my grandmother (who died when I was four) during the war because she was a nurse for soldiers. He devoted his life to God and loved his family deeply. I remember him as a peaceful man. He was the one who baptized me as a baby. The last time I saw my grandpa, I was traveling through Indiana on my way to Vermont for grad school. I think that somehow he knew that would be the last time I would see him, even though I had no idea.
He would have been 85 in May. May is also when my husband's birthday is and the month that my father-in-law passed away. Next month, I will bring a new life into this world. Life continues its cycle, but when someone leaves this earth it's still not easy. At least I know that he's at peace, living with God whom he devoted his life to.
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