A passing.

We said goodbye to Blake's grandfather last weekend: a man I only ever knew as larger-than-life, looking small in a hospice bed. We were stunned by how quickly things turned with his health. It felt like he had been sick for so long, but was too stubborn to leave us. And then - late Saturday night while the kids were sleeping, while we were having conversations about everyday things - his body passed. The dissonance between Life and life seems impossible sometimes.

We've been intentional in the words we've used with Hugo. He's so young, and can only grasp so much (things that we struggle to grasp, ourselves). I compare a person's body to a house, a dwelling space for only so many years. I tell him that Grandpa's body was very tired for having lived so much and loved for so long. I tell him that we love Grandpa. That it's ok to love a person so much that you miss them when they're gone.

I have a weakness for smart, stubborn, unfailingly honest Walker men: the one I married, the one sitting on my couch watching Cars 2, the one who has loved me like his own daughter, the one we celebrated and grieved over today. My world would look very different if this world hadn't known Fred Walker. I owe him a great debt.

All our love, Grandpa Brown.

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