Besides that, most of my usual subjects seem rather inconsequential while I was in the presence of a family member about to enter eternity.
Gertrude "Trudy" Opal Lucas fought a 20-month battle against colon cancer and succumbed on Sunday, January 12 just a few minutes before noon. The previous weeks were marked by significant "last times".
Last time to drive. Last time to get out of the house for a special event. Last time to walk. Last time to sit up. Last time to eat. Last time to speak.
Sarah was the last one to paint Grandma's nails - just an hour or so before the end. Trudy wanted to make sure her nails were purple for her burial.
When she took her last breath, Trudy was surrounded by family at her son Darin's house out in the country. Melissa was holding her hand at that moment. (This was all Melissa was asking of God in the end.)
The visitation was a week later at a funeral home in downtown Columbus. Hundreds of people showed up to pay their respects - in spite of the bitter cold.
The funeral was the next day. And the cold was even more bitter.
I was privileged to officiate the service and Trudy, who spent 44 years of her life working in emergency medicine, was honored with bagpipes, a "last call" over the walkie talkie, and an ambulance escort past the hospital, where dozens of co-workers gathered on the sidewalk to pay tribute to her.
Our kids all made it back to town for the funeral - although Hannah was diagnosed with the flu that Thursday and I flew out to Myrtle Beach to drive her back to Columbus.
We had one day together as a family after the funeral and yesterday the three oldest each made their way back to their new home states while Melissa went back to work (for a half day) and Sarah went back to school.
Today was the first day of a return to normal for all of us - but it's a new normal with a Grandma-sized hole.
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