We lost my father-in-law, Jim, this weekend. Barry lost his dad. Our kids lost their dear grandpa.
Our loss is heaven’s gain.
I don’t have much inclination to write. It’s a quiet time.
But I am reflecting on loss and gain this morning.
We’re gaining light here in our Upper Peninsula woods. Some days the shadows linger long and defined, sweeping the landscape.
Long shadows can seemingly settle into our hearts for times in life, especially when a loved one dies.
But sunlight dawdles longer each evening, spreading its wings of light toward spring landscapes, even while the snow slowly melts.
Chickadees, nuthatches, finches, grosbeaks and blue jays dance on the snow seeking seeds from the feeder. Their wings sometimes flutter into perfect angels on the snow.
Ice reveals itself, shatters, melts, shifts into cracked patterns. Like our hearts, ice transforms time and time again.
Nothing stays the same.
Yesterday–or was it the day before?–the morning sun exploded above the horizon on Keweenaw Bay in orange, purple and yellow glory. The dark branches met the light in the endless yin/yang dance of life.
Loss and gain bow and curtsy, twirl and stand still, hug and let go.
Goodbye for now, dear Jim, dear father, dear grandfather.
You were so loved. Thanks for sharing your smile, your enthusiasm and your love with us.