Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, dayan ha-emet.

[nullalux]

I don't think I've wrapped my head around this yet, but Uncle Andy is gone. Yesterday morning he was walking down the street in sunny Santa Monica with Aunt Heidi, a family friend, when he had a heart attack. He was conscious when he was taken to the hospital, but died shortly thereafter. He was not ill, had no known health issues, was only in his mid-60s. After we got the phone call, tutordennis left immediately to drive to Elk Grove and tell his mother that her brother was gone.

Where is consolation? I am glad Heidi was with Andy, and that he knew she was there. I'm glad he got to meet his new nephew, Benjamin Andrew, earlier this month (named for Grandpa Ben, Andy's father). I am glad for the support of our friends and families.

But I wonder what will happen with Grandma Furn, since Andy had moved in to keep her company after Grandpa's death a few years ago (it seems beyond painful to have to bury both your husband and your son). I wonder what will happen to the family business, run primarily by Andy. I wonder what Thanksgiving will be like without him.

I initially wondered why this happened. But there is no why; it just happened. Can anyone really get The Call at any time, about anyone? I lit the yahrzeit for my father last night, who died a few days before Thanksgiving as well. I can't believe it's been fifteen years since he took his leave of us.

Comments

[launasilverbear.livejournal.com]

The sudden loss of someone healthy is so shocking. I'm sorry he is no longer with you.

I understand how hard it is when you remember a loved one and realize it has been years since they were with you. My father died when I was 13...and now that I do the math, I realize that it has been 20 years. I sometimes think about what he has missed since then...all the holidays and milestones...and then I remember that he is still with me. Our loved ones don't stop caring about us when they're gone, just like we don't stop caring about them. So I try to remember that when the loss feels sharp.