Final Goodbye

My grandfather died just a few weeks after Simple Things was released. We knew he didn't have much time left, and the first time I heard the song "Beautiful", I cried through the entire thing. It seemed so strange to me to call the process of losing a loved one beautiful because I was losing one of the most important people in my life.

As he was dying, my grandmother was taken to the hospital for emergency surgery. She, of course, did see him before he was gone and had the chance to say her good-byes to the man who had been her partner for almost 60 years. "We had a good run," she whispered to him before they wheeled her back to her own room.

None of us grandchildren knew what to expect at the service, and we were all anxious with the anticipation of how she would react. I still remember turning around and seeing her sitting in the doorway in her wheelchair. She stared directly at the casket, and I knew I was going to be glued to her side for the duration.

When she reached the body, she stood to see him. I stood behind her with my arms on her shoulders as she leaned over and inspected him. The moment was brief and tender, but my real surprise was when I looked around us. I suppose I was so caught up in taking care of her that I didn't see my siblings and all my cousins gathered in a circle around our grandparents. It was impossible to see anything else in the room beyond the wall of family.

Somehow, we all knew they needed a private moment without the watchful eye of the funeral director and assorted family and friends. We all knew that our precious grandmother was facing an indescribable loss. We were there, arms laced together in a web of support.

That's when I knew that it was beautiful, and I don't think it was any accident that I first heard that song so soon before that moment.