A reading from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah.
They told us to line up just outside the sanctuary doors. Family started to gather and I saw him standing there at the start of our haphazard line. Alone. Slightly stooped, almost frail. As if his strength seeped out of him the day she left us.
I had rarely seen him without Grandma and it hit me that this was his future. She would never be at his side again. But he shouldn't have been alone, not for this.
I moved toward him without thinking and took his hand. He blinked away tears and patted the hand he now held. Words weren't necessary. My cousin Jennie appeared on his other side and took that hand. Now he was flanked by granddaughters.
This month marks two years since the death of my grandmother. I knew I would eventually write about her funeral and I hope I've done it justice. Please head over to A Deeper Family to read the rest of the post.
