Grief.

Grief.

It has no prejudice. It has no favor of a season. It brings thorns of affliction to the heart and our lives become unsettled for moments, weeks and maybe even months.

Yes –grief bears no schedule, plan or time-line.

As I walked into Kris’s grandfather’s room yesterday, grief greeted me at the door. My heart sank because I knew Pop was in his final moments of his triumphant and long-lived life.

What an honor it is to be present with someone you love for their last breaths of life.

Red and navy checkered flannel sheets covered his bed. His favorite blue and black Panther sweatshirt covered his thin skin and his hands laid across his stomach. A pillow was tucked beside him –not to support his aging body– but to remind him of the love that once laid beside of him…his wife, Nana.

For twelve years now, that pillow has been there. From the day she left this earth, he never stopped missing her. Not even for a moment.

He was tired but I gently touched his shoulder and said, “Pop, we are here.”

His eyes peered open so I held up beautiful hand-made pictures from three grief-stricken little girls. Hearts covered one, scribble covered another and a delicately drawn picture covered the last. But they all said, “We love you Pop.” So we held them close to him…so his eyes could see and his heart could feel the love we had for him, once more.

We honored his life and told him how grateful we were for the legacy of love he was leaving us.

Tears flowed through my eyes and my heart ached as I watched Kris tremble at his bedside. He loved his Pop. He had learned great things about life, working hard, loving harder and honoring others from this gentle giant. Pop was one of Kris’s greatest supporters over his life. And I’ll never forget the moment he said to me, “You got a  good one…that Kris.”

How those words are so true.

This morning a blue recliner sits in a corner, empty. The man who occupied it daily to eat his oatmeal, watch his news and chat with his caring daughter is no longer there.

He is gone.

And suddenly, our hearts feel like there is a hole in it.

I am reminded of the verse in Matthew 5:4 that says, “Blessed are they that mourn, for they will be comforted.”

As we think of those that have surrounded us these past few days our hearts are filled with comfort. Thoughtful emails have been re-read, words from heart-felt phone calls and text messages ring in our ears and prayers during this time have been felt.

Yes Lord, you do comfort.

As you can imagine the next few days will not be easy and no…Christmas won’t be the same this year. There will be no welcoming kiss on our cheeks from our Pop. He won’t be there to eat his mashed potatoes and corn and we won’t get to hear of his tales of working on airplanes and his blunt views on politics and sports. [smile]

But we will remember him and his great love for us.

And may that  fatherly love that Pop showed each of us remind us of the greatest love our heavenly Father could ever give this world…Jesus.

Time is short. Grief is unexpected. But love never ends….