Elaine Wozniak-Mullin, my grandmother, died on Sunday night around 8 pm. She was in a nursing home surrounded by her five kids, many grandkids, and still more great grandkids. As they were praying around her bed, with tears softly rolling down their eyes, her family told her that it was time to leave them. Soon after she breathed her last breath, and her soul separated from her body.
As I write from my home in Minnesota I can look across the street and see the house where once my grandma lived. It is challenging to believe that I cannot just walk across the street and say hi; walk across the street and have a beer on her patio; walk across the street and give her a hug. There is great sadness in her death, but the legacy of my grandmother lives on in her children and their children. Though from many backgrounds and faiths, with various struggles and experiences, her family, our family, became even more united in her death and we were able to celebrate her earthly life and rejoice in her new life in Heaven, along with mourn our own loss together.
I may have learned more about the priesthood in the last few days since my grandmother's death than in five or six years of formation. Yet, probably more realistically, the five or six years of formation helped me to embrace and experience as fully as possible these last few days. Those who have walked with me on this journey thus far were in my heart whether I was crying myself, listening to someone else swim through her grief, speaking in front of others, serving the Mass, or attending at the grave site, I was supported with great love in my heart from those who have been a part of helping me along my journey to priesthood.
What a beautiful thing life is. Thank you Grandma.
No comments:
Post a Comment