Postcards to Heaven
Saturday morning, we went to the Correos to send you the postcard I thought you might like from the Monastery in Sobbrado - but you’ll never receive it. There wasn’t anything overly insightful or monumental I was sharing in the limited space there is to write anyhow, but I really wanted you to light up a little bit when the mailman came, and when you saw that I had sent you something all the way from Spain, instead of just an update on my device. I didn’t know I would be too late sending you one last update, one more kissy face, one more photo or I love you. But I know you knew this. I know your spirit and energy are strengthened yet as you reunite with Grandma and provide all your children, grandchildren, and great grand babies the comfort and healing we all need. Because we miss you so already. I’ve already felt your presence walking along this continued Camino trek you shook your head at in awe, excitement, and disbelief. Despite you thinking it was a little crazy, I saw the glimmer in your eyes and that infamous smirk that gave me the validation you agreed I ought to go still. I really wanted to tell you all about it in person when I got home.
I’ll miss hearing your voice say I love you. I’ll miss the patience and support you often needed to say what you really had in your still so sharp and articulate mind. I’ll miss the stories that you continued to share from when you were younger, when all your crazy kids were young, the races you ran and how fast of a marathoner you were! I’ll miss you diligently paying attention to us upon our arrival and gleaming when the family continued to pour in the room around you. I’ll miss the inevitable scraping of the bowl when dessert is gone, because you can always keep scraping up just a little more... and there really always is room for dessert. I’ll miss browsing the fridge pictures as if they changed much, grabbing a handful of M&Ms, and hearing the news on way too loud. It’s an odd feeling knowing you were my last grandparent alive. It’s more odd to think I will not return to ‘Grandma and Granndpa Craig’s’. I will try to replay so many beautiful memories and be sure Addie remembers the special time, and one day my kids know how amazing of heritage they come from.
Continue to walk with me, not just on our Camino. Stay closest to us all now and please help everyone find peace. We loved you so. How lucky are we to have had you in our lives so long. 92 years is a long and beautiful life, Grandpa. I hope I can continue to make you and our family proud. I miss you. Sorry you didn’t get to see my postcard, but maybe you’ll see a glimpse of it from heaven.
It’s not goodbye, it’s I’ll see you later. I will continue this journey with you especially close by my side.
Love you millions, Liz