I believe in Joy

Yesterday my grandpa slipped into a sleepy coma. When i got home this evening around 10 my grandma was sitting by his side holding his hand and talking to him. He is on oxygen to keep him comfortable, it's low hum filled the room. I sat next to her for about a half-hour as she quietly wept and told him how much she loved him, talked to him about their wedding day, about their children...and told him she loved him again. I wept, too.

I took pictures of his hands...he has the most beautiful hands.

He still responds to touch and mom says he may be able to hear us. Just now i went in and said good night and told him i loved him. As she, my sister and i stood in the doorway and looked at him we marveled at the wonder of life and death. My grandfather is one step away from being with the Lord forever...in a new body...a new life...glorious for all eternity...

Earlier as my mom was sitting with my grandma i peeked my head in. Grandma was gazing at her husband and holding a tissue to her face...her hand trembling with Parkinsons.

"...it's okay. It's good to cry." Said my mom.
Grandma shook her head. "I don't want to cry," she whispered.
"Why?" Asked my mom.
"Because I should be joyful," said my grandma.

In a way, we are. It's the waiting that's hard. Mom said this evening that she wants to be there when he passes.

"I want to see him go to meet Jesus."

me too.