This weekend, my grandpa’s sister Jo passed away. To anyone who knew her, it’s no surprise that she’s been traveling the country and world as usual, and keeping quiet about her health. I’ve always felt a strong bond with Jo, and Charlie and I have been told that we were sort of like grandchildren to her. She gave me a miniature Shakespeare collection and a necklace that had been, I think, her mother’s. I wish I’d gotten out to Phoenix to visit; it’s been nearly 2 years since I’ve seen her.
Strangely, I’ve been thinking of Grandpa a lot this past week. His presence has been fresh on my mind, particularly in the evenings. Take meaning from that as you will. And while I’m not big on church, his memory always brings back the verse the pastor used at his memorial service:
I came that they might have life, and have it abundantly.
Incredibly fitting, and I think that Jo’s life was as abundant in her own way as Grandpa’s was in his. I’m saddened by her death, but these two are both a reminder to not let life pass by untasted. If some people have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, I would like Jo and Abe, sipping coctails and whispering “Do it! Are you crazy? Get out there!”