all things must pass . . . and this past weekend my family had to let my grandfather go. as a family, we sat around and reminisced about who he was. we talked about what he wore, his jobs, how he took care of his family, his carpentry skills, and all that he taught us throughout the years. we laughed, we cried, we dozed off in thought, and were together as a whole.
there was this moment . . . during the funeral we all took turns, one by one, scattering dirt on my grandfathers grave. the last person to scatter dirt was my grandmother. my uncle gathered some dirt in the shovel and passed it to my grandmother, whom for a minute, hesitated. bringing her hands clasped together to her mouth, she paused, not ready. she whispered "wait . . ." we were silent and watched her. she took the shovel, and with her four children, poured the dirt into the grave saying "goodbye howard, i can't wait to see you"
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