top of page

Every Christmas eve, he piled those grandkids he loved, those kids he hung the moon for, into his old classic Cadillac and went on the search for Santa. He was there on the sidelines of every game, every recital, every birthday, every ordinary day, every everything.

Upon thinking of this, the waves of grief come crashing, and take our breath away - just when we thought we were ok for a minute, that we had regained our footing.

But I can imagine him standing on the shore and smiling encouragingly, saying “You’ve got this. Steady now.” And he sits with you there while you catch your breath.

bottom of page