A time of endings and new beginnings

The past two months have been some of the most emotional in my life. They have been characterized by moments of extreme happiness and extreme sadness. I'm going to tell this story the wrong way, with the most important part at the beginning, and fill in the details as I go.

I graduated from college on May 8, 2010. This was a moment I had waited my whole life for. As I walked across the stage of Texas Christian University, I had never felt so accomplished. I was a college graduate; I had a job and a house in my hometown. I was thrilled to start this new chapter of my life. After graduation I had plans to hang around Fort Worth for a week before packing up my things and making the drive to Nashville with my TCU friends whom I had convinced to move there. But plans change.

On the evening of my graduation, while at dinner with my family who'd flown in, my parents informed me that I had to come home the next morning with them. My sweet, sweet grandfather, a man I loved more than most people in this world, was in his final hours. This is the man who taught me how to swim, how to sail, how to ski. He gave me my competitive nature, my hunger to win and my love for the water. This was the man who, three weeks before, had been mowing his lawn and in the lake fixing a boat motor. This man couldn't be dying. But he was, so I went back to my house after dinner and threw my things into a suitcase and hastily grabbed what I would need for an indefinitely long trip home. I didn't get to say goodbye to many friends — I had a much more important goodbye to say.

My family and I arrived in Nashville the next day at noon. We drove straight to the hospital where we were greeted by all my aunts, uncles and cousins. My extended family had flown in from all corners of the country — from New Hampshire to Colorado — to see the man who had shaped all of our lives one last time. When I entered the hospital room I didn't recognize the shell of my grandpa lying in that bed. I put my hand in his and he gave it a squeeze with the ounce of energy he had left. Even in his final moments he still recognized me.

Hanging on the wall beside his bed were two pieces of paper with words my grandfather's shaking hand had scrawled earlier that morning. The first word was "boat" and the second was "party." This display couldn't help but make me smile in the midst of my distress. My grandfather was himself until the end.

I told him I loved him and kissed his cheek. My uncle told me he was waiting for me. Not two hours after I arrived he passed away. I was so happy for him, yet so sad for those of us left on this earth. He died in the best way that anyone could die — peacefully, quickly and surrounded by everyone in this world that loved him best.

Like I said though, this story has two parts. Out of the ending of a wonderful life well lived blossomed a new beginning. Since my grandfather's death, my grandmother and I have begun a relationship we never had — or needed — before. Since I have moved home to Nashville I get to see her several times a week. We talk about our lives and how we are coping. We go to lunch, we garden, we laugh and we cry.

God has blessed me in so many ways. When I left TCU, I felt like I was ending the best chapter of my life. Now, as I look back on the incredible past month I have spent in Nashville, I know that God took me out of Fort Worth for a reason. I've been blessed with friendships here that I will cherish forever. And mostly, I have been blessed with the gift of my grandmother. It took the passing of one family member to transform my relationships with others. I couldn't be happier with the way my life is proceeding, and I know that the emotional past few months have only led me to the life I live now.

While I miss my grandfather, I know that he lived a full life. I miss his presence, but he is no longer need in this world. My grandmother and I will continue to grow and learn together how to go on without him, all the while thanking God for the blessing of his life.