Poppa

This weekend I got a phone call from my Dad. I could tell it was serious by the tone in his voice. My mom's dad "Poppa" was in hospice. All the family had gathered there to say goodbye to him.

He had just turned 90 and my cousin was putting together a book of 90 memories from all of us. So we'd all just been thinking of things we wanted included over the last few weeks. I'd decided to write about what a great story teller he is and how he's handed that down so that I see it in my own children.
I feel so far away from my family right now. I don't feel worried about Poppa. He knew the Lord and I'm certain he's enjoying being there with Him and being reunited with ones who've gone before him including my Grandma. But I'm aware of the shift in our family structure and that I'm away as things are shifting. I miss the chance to grieve together with them.
To laugh and tell stories.
To cry and tell stories.

I'm reminded why I live away today. This world is not my home. And I'm anxious to invite as many people as I can to my home.