May Flowers

Seven years ago May 1st, my grandfather died. He was an incredible man. Nobody ever met him who didn't love him. My brother named his first child after him, under the hope that someday, someone would say, "I knew a great guy with that name." I have no doubt it will happen. When his bride joined him on Christmas Eve this past year, I was happy that they were reunited. I don't have any answers about the afterlife, but I do believe they are together in some way or form.

Last Friday, along with reverently remembering Grandpa, we celebrated the birth of a new child, his great granddaughter and baby sister of the boy who carries on his name. Probably the last child with the same last name as him. Our day of family grief now holds hands with family joy.

Life is beautiful that way. While a calendar is somewhat arbitrary, we still use it to mark our days. In our family, we have a lot of shared days. My aunt and uncle share a birthday as well as my uncle and I, my twin brothers, and my daughter and my cousin.

For me, it's a reminder that we never walk alone.

In our sorrow or in our joy, we are never alone.

We welcome our little May Flower and all the love she brings into our world.