My last living grandparent, my paternal grandfather, passed away over Thanksgiving weekend. He was 9

My last living grandparent, my paternal grandfather, passed away over Thanksgiving weekend. He was 97 years old. A sailor, a proud U.S. Navy veteran, an active Fourth Degree Knight with the Knights of Columbus, an Italian–American, a devoted Catholic who lived our faith in action. He lived a good life, one of family, love, and laughter. He was unfailingly kind, humble, and gentle. His grandchildren, and the greats and great-greats, meant the world to him. My siblings and I grieve for our father and his loss, who truly cherished his father and with whom he shared a special bond through weekly Knights meetings, Masses, and family gatherings. Those actions—faith in actions—exemplified the beautiful morals and values with which we were raised and only fully appreciate now.

With Saint Paul on my mind of late, the profoundness of the unseen and thus eternal is consuming my thoughts. All of the pettiness that we swear we are beyond but truly are not, the hurt that we hold on to, means nothing at the end. All that matters is how deeply you loved and touched another human. I think about my father’s unfailingly kind and gentle father and mother and my mother’s astonishingly resilient and loving father and mother and only recognize now after they have passed that all of that was indeed imbued in my parents. And I give thanks to God at every remembrance of them. ♥