The last week has been an incredibly tough one with the passing of my husband's grandfather. Although he was my grandfather through marriage, from the moment I met him about 14 years ago, he treated me as one of his own. I've never known anybody with such a love of life. He always had a sparkle in his eye and excitement at everything the world had to offer him. He took every opportunity to tell one of his jokes, which we'd all heard a million times before...but now instead of groaning at hearing the jokes again, we'll wish that he were here to tell them to us one more time.
I will always remember Seymour (or Poppy as we called him) for his infectious laughter, keeping his sense of humor right until the end. He also
loved to eat, enjoying his glass of ale with every dinner that I can recall sharing with him! Most of all, however, I always respected the love he had for grandma. Even while in the hospital one of the last times I saw him, grandma asked him what he wanted, and he quite simply answered "you". Above all else, their love is truly an inspiration.
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Seymour Burrell 1924-2012 |
This week has been a week of mourning but, at the same time, it's impossible to think of him without smiling. Sitting with my husband's family and talking about him has left us laughing out loud at the memories and I can't think of a better way to honor his life and spirit.
Our pain is in the measure of our blessing. What we have lost
is a reflection of how we have loved. They return to us, our
beloved, in flashes of memory, in moments of sweet, anguished
recollection. We remember the smile and grieve that it is gone.
We will never again touch the hand that guided us, or sought
us out. Still, would we wish never to have known that hand,
never to have seen that smile? God has given. God has taken
away. Our pain is the measure of our blessing.
- Rabbi David Wolpe