Skip to main content

Mourning the loss(es)

It is the middle of the night. I cannot sleep.

I got a call this evening from my Aunt. My grandfather passed away this afternoon.  I am sad I did not get to see him again before he died, but I am so happy for him.  He was ready to go. His pain is over.  But, I will miss him.  Although I have not lived in the same area as him for the last several years, I was blessed to grow up so close to he and my grandmother.  There are just a few of the memories I will cherish:
- The "Freddie" hats he wore
- The way he loved my grandmother and, nearly 10 years after her death, still cried when he talked about his "girl"
- That until his health failed, he would always guide you out of his driveway when you left the house.  It did not matter how cold it was or if it were raining or snowing, he always helped you back out of the driveway.
- His propensity for falling out of trees ;-)
- The trip when he and my grandmother took me, my brother and my cousins to the "North Pole" (A park in the Adirondack mountains in NY . . . . I really thought we had driven to the North Pole!).
- His hard working nature
-The fact that he could go anywhere and see someone he knew in some way!
-How he loved to tease
- The GOOD man that he was

Goodbye, Grandpa!

And, I am embarrassed to admit, I am mourning the loss of something else . . . my first marathon this weekend.  As of right now, it looks like the funeral will be on the same day as the marathon.  Is it strange that I cried that I will not be able to run it?  I am hoping that it is totally human and not just me being selfish.  But, I have trained for this marathon for months.  I have planned it for months.  Put in lots of work.  Went to the chiropractor.  Went to a physical therapist so that I could get to the start line this weekend.  I ran two 20 milers. I even already bought the 26.2 sticker for my car.  I was looking forward to crossing the finish line and knowing that I had put the hard work in, I had run the race.  I was a marathoner.  So, yes, I am very disappointed it will not happen.  And, I know there are other marathons, but I trained for this one.  And running 26.2 around my neighborhood would not be the same. 

So, with the loss of my grandfather and the most likely loss of the marathon swimming in my head I cannot sleep.  Hopefully sleep will come soon.


  1. I'm sorry about your grandpa. He sounds like he was a wonderful man. You are truly blessed to have known him.

  2. Katie, I am so sorry for your loss. May your Grandfather rest in peace. My prayers are with you and your Grandfather.

  3. Oh Katie! I feel so bad for you for both losses. Is there any way you can go to the wake and not the funeral? I don't know what I would do in your situation. Obviously this is your grandpa, and going to his funeral is so important, but this marathon is something you have been dedicated to for so long. What would your grandpa want you to do? What does your family think you should do? What a bad situation!

  4. So sorry for your loss.
    Prayers for your family.

  5. Oh I am soo sorry for both of your losses, and yes you should cry that is a loss. You worked and sweat to get there. May God surround you with peace and fill you with great memories of him and may He open the door to an even better marathon!!

  6. Oh Katie, I am so sorry. Whatever you decide will surely be God's will.

  7. Katie,

    So sorry for your loss. I think our grandpas were one of a kind. It was a great generation of true gentlemen.

    I would feel the same way about the marathon. You've worked so hard for so long! You'll have to catch this one next year and run it in honor of your Grandpa.

    Prayers to you, your family and your wonderful Grandpa!

  8. Katie... I am so sorry... I will pray for you...

  9. Oh Katie, I'm so sorry on both accounts. Your grandfather sounds like a great man! I think it is totally normal to mourn the marathon too. You worked so hard to reach this goal and you were THISCLOSE to completing it. Prayers coming your way!

  10. Katie, you're in my prayers! I know first-hand how difficult it is to lose a grandparent with whom you were so close.

  11. I'm sorry for your loss.

    You SHOULD morn National. It's normal. You are trained. See if there is a race scheduled for 3 or 4 weeks from now, run a 20 and then do a 2 week taper. Go get your marathon for your Grandpa.

    If you end up at National for some reason due to scheduling changes or whatever, please e-mail me at nmomof3 at gmail dot com and let me know. I had planned to "stalk you" on the course, and hopefully cheer for you at some point.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Gift (Our NFP story) Part 2

(You can read  Part 1 here

     So, by the time Andrew was 18 months old, we knew God was saying no to having more children at the time.  And, as mentioned before, He provided so much peace about it, that we knew we had discerned correctly.  Yet, even with that peace, I had to mourn the fact the we might not ever have any more children.  Yes, we were still open to life, of course, but from the time after Andrew’s birth, until today, we practiced NFP faithfully to avoid pregnancy.  And it took time to accept that we might not have any more children.  There were times when I would hold a friend’s new born baby and then go home and cry because I knew I might not ever know the joy of holding my own baby again.  We live in a community where life is celebrated and families are large.  Usually more than one friend is pregnant at a time.  In those early days, each pregnancy announcement was met with great joy for the friend, but often left me with an empty feeling.  I understood, in many way…

My verse for the year

But now, O LORD, You are our Father, We are the clay, and You our potter; And all of us are the work of Your hand.   Isaiah 6:48

There are boxes being unpacked in our home.  Boxes packed and meant to be unpacked in a different home, our new home, in a matter of two weeks.  

About two weeks before Christmas things changed.  Situations changed.  And what we were convinced was God's will just months before, seemed so unlike it now.  Things beyond our control happened and suddenly we were praying and we felt that the best and only solution was to walk away from this new house.  And at the end of  a week of uncertainty, anxiety and tension, once the decision was made to walk away from the house, there was a great deal of peace.   But, as the dust settles from the decision, even though we know it is the best for everyone involved, there is still sadness, still this sense of loss.  As we have prayed again and again, we know each of all of the steps we have made in this whole house journey …

On Waiting

This past weekend we went to a book party for a priest friend who had his second book Living the Beatitudes:A Journey to Life in Christ published last fall.  The party was hosted by another Catholic author.  And, after the cake was cut and people were sitting quietly, the host of the party began to speak.  He began to talk about how great this book is and how insightful so much of it is.  Then he began to share quotes from it.  And I felt as if he chose two of them for me:

"Waiting is the training ground of trust."

"Beauty is the crescendo of waiting"
Now, although we have this book and my husband has read it, I have not (sorry, Fr. B).  But that night, I sat with the book while my hubby and I sat down to attempt to watch a movie and I scoured the book for the above quotes.  Too shy to ask the host for the pages for these quotes, I skimmed page by page until I found them.  And after I found the first quote, I was confronted with line after line about waiting.  I read…