Grandad

We got one of those really awful phone calls first thing this morning.  Brett's 95 year old Granddad had passed away in his sleep just a little while earlier.  Its not a big shock, as he was becomingly increasingly frail and had had several bouts of illness in the last three months, but it is still very sad.  He was Brett's last surviving grandparent, and a treasured link to his mum, who died about 5 years ago.

I took the call from Brett's dad just after Brett had left for work.  Thankfully he hadn't gotten very far, and I asked him to turn around and come home...I don't think anyone should be told about a member of their family dying over the phone.  After I told Brett, he walked Josa to school (she was ok, a little sad for Brett, but she hardly knew Granddad as he lived on the other side of Australia), and I made a pot of coffee for us.  We sat in the lounge room with our coffee, and didn't really even talk much, but just stared out the window at the Chinese Tallow and mused over life and death.  

Granddad was a very strong Christian, and I have no doubt at all that he is now with God.  He will be reunited with his adored wife, his daughter, and (this is the bit that gets me) our beloved little girl, Eliza.  It is weird, but it makes me happy and sad and jealous.  Happy that Granddad is in heaven, sad that all of those people are not here with us, and quite frankly a little jealous that he gets to see Eliza, and I still have to wait goodness only knows how many years until I see her again myself.

Don't get me wrong.  I have no death wish, and I couldn't bare to leave our other daughter Josa here without me, but I am aware that to some extent I spend my life just waiting to see Eliza, and that longing and waiting just gets so hard, that I am jealous of people for whom the waiting is over.  Does that make sense?

I meant to devote this entry to Granddad.  He was a wonderful person; loving, responsible, honest, faithful, a wonderful grandparent.  He took exquisite care of his wife after she had a major stroke, and was always utterly delighted to see his family.  He was a blessing to the family, and we will miss him.