ripples
Since my last grandparent died on May 31st, I've been thinking about the ways that death creates ripples in the lives of the living, how an unplanned event impacts all the planned events. When I got the message from Pete, my uncle, I was standing with Sofia in a coffee shop decorated to look like the French countryside in DC's Navy Yard. We had just had lunch with Ted, my cousin, where we had talked about Gram and her health, that I had just been to see her, that he planned to see her soon. The moment before I looked at my phone, Sofia and I had been commenting to each other about all the sweet details in the coffee shop--paint colors, indoor pergolas with silk wisteria vines, blue on white china-style patterns on both stay and go mugs, a lush pastry case, and decadent coffee and tea options. Then I looked at my phone. I felt sadness and then relief. Relief for her that a life of near-total hearing loss, near-total blindness and congestive heart failure edema is finally over.
