life throws you curves, but you learn to swerve

i am leaving for costa rica in two days, but my thoughts are elsewhere today. my grandfather passed away suddenly on friday night shortly after leaving my house and, strangely, my going away party. i saw this curve coming, but it looked like it was at least a few miles ahead... he was so alive on friday- the life of the party in a way. parked comfortably in the den, (a term my grandparents always used), he had a glass of red wine at his side, lipstick marks on his cheeks, and what looked almost like a receiving line. he had been asking my uncle for days when i was coming home, and this was the first time we had seen each other since the last time, which was only two weeks earlier. for the first few minutes he was at my house, i stood proudly at his side just as usual; he squeezed my hand and rubbed my back while he caught his breath, recovering from the short trek up the front path.

my grandpa was a celebrity to me, to most. he lived like one too- adventure stories from life in new york city, montreal, chicago, even costa rica. sometimes you couldn't get the juicy details, as his speech had been jumbled for the last few years, but you could tell by the grin on his face and the laugh that followed that he was recalling wild and crazy memories from his youth.

regretably, i will miss the funeral mass on tuesday, as i fly out a few hours earlier for staging in d.c. my sister will share a joint reflection, as we were the eldest grandchildren, but my heart is beginning to hurt anticipating the distance that will soon separate me from my family, and in their time of need. my grandpa, on the other hand, will travel with me to costa rica to share in my adventures- a blessing in disguise, as i was anxious about saying goodbye to him in ill health. if funerals are supposed to be celebrations of life, it is fitting that i will board a plane on wednesday destined for costa rica, a country whose motto is "pura vida", "pure life."