Ten Years Gone, A Lifetime To Go
April 13, 2022 – 10 Years
Ten years ago today I received an early morning call that my grandfather, Jim Law, my best friend in the world, died overnight. A few weeks prior, he suffered a series of strokes while golfing. Though he was making improvements, and the family was able to celebrate Easter with him, he had a long road of recovery ahead of him. In the days before he died there were conversations about the extensive rehab he’d need to partake in to regain more function.
Each year I make a post on the day of his death, mostly directed towards him. A reflection of my time without him. A chance to remind people of him and the lessons he taught us. Here is that post.
Grandpa,
As I thought about the approach of this day, I couldn’t help but think this year feels so different. I’ve already been sitting in a tender space after the loss of our dear Robin. To think about another day of grief and loss was too much. I didn’t make preparations ahead of time because I can’t even keep track of the days.
Today I take comfort knowing that you are watching over my sweet babies in heaven. That you were able to welcome Robin into your loving arms, giving them one of your amazing hugs. That you are playing catch with Robin and Jackson, taking them on walks to look for golf balls, and telling stories that maybe aren’t quite appropriate for children.
I believe that you were there the day James and I got married. Standing in your typical post, at the back of the sanctuary. I imagined you welcoming all the guests to the wedding. Even though your role on wedding day would be “grandfather of the bride,” I can’t imagine that anything would have kept you from also being '“greeter” and “usher.” I pictured you thinking about whether you could fit in a round of golf before the ceremony. And I pictured you talking to everyone in the clubhouse at Bunker that day, telling them that your granddaughter was getting married.
Until the day we are reunited in heaven, I take comfort in seeing you, feeling your spirit, in my daily life.I try not to reflect on the fact that with each passing year, our time together will represent a smaller part of my life. That one day I’ll reach a point where you’ve been gone for more time than you were present. But I’m reminded that time isn’t linear. And even if you aren’t physically present, in a way I can sense, you are always near.
My heart still hurts every single day. I miss you every single day. I know you would be so proud of me; that you would be so proud of all of us. So much has changed since you passed. Graduations and engagements and new houses and new pets and hospitalizations and vacations and new life goals. And I know you would have supported me through it all because you lived a life that brought light and joy to others. You showed me what it looks like when someone steps up. You weren’t perfect, none of us are, and you certainly had some faults. But you were everything I needed you to be at the time.
You were my trivia buddy. My parallel parking instructor. A golfing extraordinaire. My personal chauffer. An avid crossword puzzler. My math genius. My extra swim coach. You were many things, but most importantly, you were my best friend.
In your honor, I always carry a box of band-aids (they’re in the glove compartment), I attempt crossword puzzles, I cheer for the Cubs to go all the way, the Hawks to take the Big 10, and the long shot to win the Derby. I golf whenever I get the chance, and I pay it forward and try to bring a smile to the face of everyone I meet.
Love always,
Victoria
PS - Take good care of my babies for me. They are so blessed to have a great-grandpa like you to watch over them