A Finished Work

Last night, after the kids had gone to sleep, Bryan came into our room where I was exercising and, without speaking, handed me his phone. The message, which had just come from his mom, told us that Bryan's Grandpa Ned had finished his time on earth. He had been declining for some time, so we had been expecting this. His wonderful wife and all of his children were with him when he slipped peacefully from this life to the next.

Ned was the first person that I met in Bryan's family. When Bryan and I were just crossing the threshold from good friends to dating, Ned had come to pick Bryan up from BYU to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with them. I had stayed to work in my job as an RA, so I was there to walk Bryan to the car. I remember noticing how much Bryan looked like his Grandpa, so much so that I wondered if I was getting a glimpse into the future of what Bryan would look like. His Grandpa was warm and friendly to me in the few minutes we interacted. And he continued to be welcoming and kind and loving through the nearly seventeen years I was able to know him.

After hugging each other and shedding tears, Bryan and I discussed how and when we should tell the kids. We had told them a few days before that Grandpa wasn't doing well, and that he was probably in the final days of his life, so they had been prepared. We debated if this additional news would ruin their day, or if it would be worse to withhold the information until the afternoon.

This morning Bryan and I got all the kids up for school, but instead of telling them to get dressed, we brought them into our room and had everyone snuggle on our bed. And then we told them.

Phoebe, who feels everything strongly and deeply, cried the hardest. Sophie, our nurturer, put her arm around her sister and said, "It's okay Phoebe," and continued to soothe her until it was time to get ready for the day. Cooper climbed onto my lap and leaned into me while I held him. Peter, who has the most memories of Grandpa of all our kids, didn't visibly react much. Bryan asked how he felt and Peter said he was sad, and his voice caught just the tiniest bit.

On the last day of our trip to Utah this summer, we had an unexpected few hours before we needed to be at the airport. We decided to stop by Bryan's grandparents' house one last time. They were delighted by the extra visit and we gave lots of hugs. As we were about to leave, I felt very strongly that we needed a picture with Bryan and the kids and Grandma and Grandpa. I took several, and at least one person is making a face or closing their eyes in each one. But the fact that we have those pictures brings comfort to our hearts and may help Phoebe and Sophie remember their only Great-Grandpa that they got to meet in mortality.

I know that death is not the end, only a temporary separation. I am certain that Ned was joyously met on the other side of the veil and that he is happy to be free of the pains and aches that he had felt for so many years. Death is sad for those of us still here, because we will miss him while we continue our work on Earth. Despite that knowledge, we still grieve, and that's okay.

Whenever we left their house, Ned would hug us and whisper into our ears "Remember who loves ya." We do, and we always will.