The Brokenhearted

Today, the last of our dossier will leave for our agency.  We are done, the paperwork is complete.  We’ll wait for the email to tell us that we are DTC (dossier to China), and for our LID (logged in date), and then we are officially waiting to hear who and where our daughter is!  It is a day I’ve been looking forward to for months….

But…it is also an unexpectedly hard day. 

Less than a month after his bride departed, this morning, my grandfather passed away quietly at age 94.  His life motto was, “Never give up, never ever give up,” and he never did.  His heart however, did not agree.  The doctors explained that it seems that he was having a long, slow heart attack since my grandmother passed away last month.    He died, quite literally, of a broken heart. 

He told me a few weeks ago, “In old age, we become caricatures of the people we used to be.”  I laughed and told him that he was a character, not a caricature.  You see, the artist in him saw the young man he used to be, and the exaggerations that age had made.  But what I saw was different.  What I saw for the last several weeks was a man who finally knew, without hesitation, how much his wife did for him, and along with that, how much he loved her.  I saw a great grandfather beam with pride at little boys making a muddy mess of his home.  I saw him in a restaurant with four generations around a table, saying, “This is the happiest day of my life.”  I saw a proud man who wanted to take great care that someone would remember that he came to this country, not only penniless, but $300 in debt for the trip.  I also got to hear the things he had pent up in his heart—the “I love you” and “I’m proud of you,” and “you’re amazing” that he no longer kept to himself.  He lavished praise and care with every conversation, even as I heard how tired he was.   For that, I am grateful. 

I am also grateful for one last lesson, and a new motto.  Each time I would call, he had a list of things that he had done that day.  I think the list was his way of staying focused on each day so that the greater things wouldn’t overwhelm him.  I don’t know that it’s about accomplishing things, but there is definite value in finding a way to focus on only what needs to be done today.  He also had a list of things he was looking forward to—our visit this summer, starting a new painting, getting the air conditioning fixed in his car.  There is value in looking forward also, in having joyful anticipation.  With that, I’m fashioning a new motto for our family…a sort of tribute of its own. 

Never give up, never ever give up hope. 

Even with regret, even in lonely places, even after decades, even when things don’t make sense, even when your very heart is breaking, there is always hope.  Hope of beautiful days, hope of healing, hope for reconciliation, hope of the “best day of your life” at ninety-four.  Never give it up.  Ever.