there is so much to be done, but here is a short note from vancouver.
what a beautiful city.
it has been a tough few days. the memorial service was today, and it was lovely. just family, each of us given the opportunity to speak if we so wished.
i wasn’t planning on speaking. at memorials/funerals people often make the mistake of personalising speeches, making it all about them instead of the deceased. there was nothing i could say about my grandad that the others there didn’t know.
however, when the opportunity to speak came, i had something to say. not how sad i was that he has died, because really, i think he was ready for death. he had been so unhappy once his body started to betray him. this was a man who swam daily until he was 87 years old. sitting in a nursing home he disliked, away from the wife he adored, this wasn’t a life he wanted.
but i decided to speak anyway. because no one so far had mentioned a point i consider to be crucial: as long as we remember the deceased, they are still with us.
i have three siblings and four cousins. when we’re together, when grandad comes into the conversations, his memory is alive. towards the end of his life, grandad was tired of living. but i know he would like if we were sharing our grandad stories.
