our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.

i’ve missed granny’s chex mix and grandpa’s famous gravy for quite some time. bear hugs, air kisses, buzzing hearing aids, perfectly matched outfits, bright and shiny jewelery, slide shows, giggling, thanksgiving relish trays, matching family reunion shirts, presents under the tree from “santa tanner” — all things of the past. it seems those memories slip away gradually… bigger cousins grow up and move on, other cousins move far away, your grandparents change homes– and the new one– even with that new house smell, just isn’t their home anymore to you. little by little those gaps expand as wide as the grand canyon and you find your visits are very different. even though my grandparents haven’t physically been my grandparents for a few years, they were there. that tangible fact was a safety net somehow. their absence now is… shocking.

death is an interesting thing. at times we fear it. other times it is a welcome guest to an ailing body. death can bring peace, but with that peace comes a hollowness that you didn’t realize existed. my friend told me death is like doing a new pilates exercise: you wake up the next day and places hurt that you didn’t even know you had.

my little granny died and i needed to be home. before i left arizona i got to sit with my grandpa– the hulk of an athlete reduced to a tiny frame by alzheimer’s and parkinson’s. we were only able to hold his fidgeting hands or stroke his leathered face while he slept… and then, he was gone, 11 days after granny. now i get ready to return home for a twin funeral and burial. a surreal experience. sadness, yes. but happiness to know that where they are the frailties of this life do not follow.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: the Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar: not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come from God, who is our home.
William Wordsworth
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5 thoughts on “our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.

  1. >Very well done, Robin. Don’t forget the reunion on the other side, with your grandparents revisiting their grandparents, perhaps with memories as vivid as yours, and then acquaintances rekindled…

  2. >Robin, So sorry to hear about your grandparents. It’s so awful for us, who miss them. I hope that there is some comfort that they are both together now. We are thinking of you.Jenelle, Chad and Grace

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