As my heart grows to accept a new little one, and I prepare for my new title of Aunt, my brain urges me to reflect on my four grandparents. Their hearts still beating, their legacies not yet sealed.
None of this big, beautiful, messy, wonderful story would be here without those four.
They stand testament to lives dedicated to living, marriages that fought and chose to stay together, mistakes and losses that didn't define them. I can't do these four justice. I can't express the legacies they're leaving for me because I can't fully begin to realize how grateful I am without crying.
Someone once asked what a legacy was, then defined it by saying it was "planting seeds for a garden you never get to see."
But I'm not really sure that's right. I know they've seen us flower.
One of my grandfather's favorite songs is titled I Love. So for now, because my words cannot be enough:
I love worn bibles and homemade donuts. I love cheesy eggs on Christmas morning, piano lessons, and curled white hair. I love hockey games and lofts and Power in the Blood. I love forts in the woods and the sound of the banjo outside my door while I fell asleep. I love the heavy scent of gardens in the south, Where's Waldo, and Creedance Clearwater Revival. I love walks through Bethlehem, stained glass, homemade cards. I love church on Sundays, I love life.
And I don't ever want to say goodbye. But I'm so grateful they've given me so much to love.
And I'm so grateful our goodbyes will be only temporary.