MegBurns

suburbanite in the 860. clothes addict, pr junkie.
meghan.m.burns@gmail.com
@MegBurns
Last week (and this week) was a hard week. One of my most confusing, challenging, emotional weeks, ever. My grandfather passed away. My mom’s dad. My gentle, kind, loving, young, grandfather, passed away less then a month after being diagnosed with Lou Gerig’s disease (ALS). I didn’t understand. I don’t understand. Death doesn’t make sense to me. I haven’t lost anyone this close to me before. Someone that has inspired, touched, influenced me, the way that Grandpa Gilmore did. It’s been a tough few years. Divorce, anger, bitterness, and broken families are all disappointments that I still struggle with that I’ve never really mentioned here on my blog. The last time I saw my Grandfather, only a few weeks ago at their 50th anniversary party, he instilled a sense of peace in me that I haven’t felt in years. The words that he shared with me allowed me to make peace with the tumultuous uncontrollable issues I’ve tried to come to terms with since forever, really. I think he knew. He knew what a terrible disease ALS is and he knew that he wanted to leave this world with peace and contentment. And he did. He celebrated his 50th anniversary with my grandmother with over 150 friends and family four weeks ago. Two weeks ago my aunt married her love Kippy, with my grandfather by her side. Days ago, he tied up financial and personal matters to make sure my grandma, at only 69 years old, would live the rest of her life free of worry. And then quietly, and peacefully, he moved on. I didn’t go to Maine for the wake, or the funeral. I felt at peace. I couldn’t understand the idea of seeing him, not really there, but physically there. I just don’t understand. But I made the right decision for me, and I was with him, and my family, through everything, regardless of where I was physically. But what I do understand, that I’m not sure I understood before my grandfather left us, is the strength of my family. I now understand that one person, with very few words, can make an impact on your life so profound that it can put to rest years of uncertainty. I now understand, Grandpa, that family love, real family love, knows no boundaries or alliances or rules or circumstances. It is constant and genuine and real. And I understand that our family has that kind love. You filled our lives with years of unlimited adoration and compassion. And I will never forget that. You taught me, Grandpa, that family, real family, is unshakable. And Grandpa, you changed my life. Every day, I will feel the joy and love that you shared with me. Always. I love you. And I will miss you forever. May you continue onward in a universe none of us can yet understand, filled with the same peace, love, and joy that you radiated upon each and every person that was lucky enough to know you. Each and every ounce of my love, Your granddaughter

Last week (and this week) was a hard week. One of my most confusing, challenging, emotional weeks, ever.

My grandfather passed away. My mom’s dad. My gentle, kind, loving, young, grandfather, passed away less then a month after being diagnosed with Lou Gerig’s disease (ALS).

I didn’t understand. I don’t understand. Death doesn’t make sense to me. I haven’t lost anyone this close to me before. Someone that has inspired, touched, influenced me, the way that Grandpa Gilmore did.

It’s been a tough few years. Divorce, anger, bitterness, and broken families are all disappointments that I still struggle with that I’ve never really mentioned here on my blog.

The last time I saw my Grandfather, only a few weeks ago at their 50th anniversary party, he instilled a sense of peace in me that I haven’t felt in years. The words that he shared with me allowed me to make peace with the tumultuous uncontrollable issues I’ve tried to come to terms with since forever, really.

I think he knew. He knew what a terrible disease ALS is and he knew that he wanted to leave this world with peace and contentment. And he did. He celebrated his 50th anniversary with my grandmother with over 150 friends and family four weeks ago. Two weeks ago my aunt married her love Kippy, with my grandfather by her side. Days ago, he tied up financial and personal matters to make sure my grandma, at only 69 years old, would live the rest of her life free of worry.

And then quietly, and peacefully, he moved on.

I didn’t go to Maine for the wake, or the funeral. I felt at peace. I couldn’t understand the idea of seeing him, not really there, but physically there. I just don’t understand. But I made the right decision for me, and I was with him, and my family, through everything, regardless of where I was physically.

But what I do understand, that I’m not sure I understood before my grandfather left us, is the strength of my family.

I now understand that one person, with very few words, can make an impact on your life so profound that it can put to rest years of uncertainty.

I now understand, Grandpa, that family love, real family love, knows no boundaries or alliances or rules or circumstances. It is constant and genuine and real. And I understand that our family has that kind love. You filled our lives with years of unlimited adoration and compassion.

And I will never forget that. You taught me, Grandpa, that family, real family, is unshakable. And Grandpa, you changed my life.

Every day, I will feel the joy and love that you shared with me. Always.

I love you.

And I will miss you forever.

May you continue onward in a universe none of us can yet understand, filled with the same peace, love, and joy that you radiated upon each and every person that was lucky enough to know you.

Each and every ounce of my love,

Your granddaughter