for uncle bob. and aunt bettes. and the beautiful family that is their legacy.

I once had a definite theory of death.

Death was scary.

Death was the most tragic thing that could ever happen to your loved ones.

Honestly, I never thought that I would have to deal with it until I was old enough to be comfortable with it.

So sure that age brought acceptance and familiarity.

Diminished fear.

Then Death and I got to know each other.

So much earlier than expected.

In such a miserable way.

My fears of Death's haunting tragedy were confirmed.

My life was ruined by it.

And so I knew that every death in my life would bring about such unbearable grief and a loss of myself.

Hoping to never see that face again, but all the time knowing that I was not invincible. If Death found me once, it could find me again.

And it did.

This is when I learned that all deaths are not created equal.

As I grieved for the loss of my best friend, there was overwhelming regret, guilt, shock, astonishment . . . how could this happen to her?

Then I lost my nephew.

At thirty-five weeks, my sister-in-law felt that something was wrong. The baby wasn't moving that Sunday morning.

She was right.

No explanations.

No answers as to why a heart stopped beating.

I was twenty-four weeks pregnant with my girls.

I knew what it felt like to love a baby that wasn't born.

I knew that a child didn't have to be held in your arms in order for you to be a parent.

I grieved for baby Jax.

The lost baby that I loved.

He had lived in my dreams and played with my children.

But more than grieving for Jax, I grieved for my brother and sister-in-law.

Of course it was different, but I think that it was an even stronger grief than I had known when I lost my best friend.

I was baffled by the amount of pain that I could suffer on the account of another person.

That I still suffer.

For the living.

For the loss within them.

Even now, as my sister-in-law lays in a hospital bed at thirty-four weeks pregnant with twin boys, I grieve for her. And for my brother.

What is lost is not replaced.

The death within them will never live again.

I will always grieve for them.

My grandfather died this past Spring.

The love of my life.

The man of my dreams.

The song in my head.

The greatest shock with this visit from Death was the ease of it.

I did not grieve for him the way I had grieved before.

It was so terribly confusing.

Still, I can't help but wonder how I am doing this.

Living every day without him and feeling nothing but happiness and love and such a sense of pride and gratefulness in our time together.

I cry for him.

I grieve for my grandmother who has lost herself.

But I am so thankful that he died in his sleep.

If there was weakness, we did not see it.

Death didn't stop him from planting the Spring's flowers the day before he left us.

He had a secret.

I truly believe that my grandfather knew that he was about to die.

He didn't want us to know.

He was successful in Death.

How could I be sore about this?

It is the greatest blessing that Death has given me.

There is a man so very much like my grandfather. Proud, humble, intelligent and beautiful. Singing and loving and appreciating life. Living life. Loving his family. Loving the life that has been spent with the same woman. Sixty-three years together. This man has a legend in his beautiful family. His amazing family! All so brilliant in their own unique ways. So confident and charismatic. All a magnificent piece of him.

While my grandfather passed in peace, this man was progressively enduring a battle with ALS. A slow process of losing all but his brilliant mind. I curse the world for such a terrible thing. For unsuccessfully trying to take a man's dignity.

And so, Death and I meet again.

And again, I am amazed by it's many faces.

While you can mourn the loss of a person, you can also find relief in their peace.

A stoic man of greatness has left us.

Mourn a selfish disease and it's greedy intentions.

Celebrate a respected man, the honor that comes with his passing, and the profound legacy that is his gift to a grieving family left behind.