normal ole’ Saturdays.

A little over a week ago, I watched my kids attempting to ride old scooters on my grandpa’s long cracked driveway. Lesley and I rode the same scooters as kids. On the same driveway – often on a Saturday night. For as long as I can remember, my family has gathered at my grandparent’s home on Saturday evenings. The memories that flood my mind as I write these words are far to vast to ever be contained in a blog post. So, I’ll just say they are many. They are good. They are treasured.

On that Saturday a little over a week ago, I remember sitting on the driveway laughing at my kids and sister. I looked up to see my grandpa standing at the back door with a big grin on his face. He always got a kick out of watching us play in his yard.

Soon it was time to pack up and head home. We put up scooters, closed the garden gate and went inside. My kids all said goodbye and headed for the front door. Like they always do. Grandpa was sitting in his chair – like he always does.  I leaned down, kissed his cheek and said, “I love you.” Like I always do.

Then I went home.

Four days later he unexpectedly passed away.

Things might be a little quiet around here for a while. We are in shock. Grieving. Aching for another normal ole’ Saturday.

Missing him. Missing Grandma. Like we always will.

I keep thinking what a gift that normal ole’ Saturday was. What a gift to vividly remember the last time I saw him smile. What a gift to know my last words to him were “I love you.”