( continues...) needed that so very much at the time).
I remember this last visit so well. I remember where I sat, how I held Pi++then-baby, how he was too weak to talk or even communicate in any way, but he was still present. It was how it was writen above - his body was still functioning, while he was gradually leaving the world in his spirit.
And I remember how I sat there and very deliberately said my goodbyes. I didn't know that it was the last time I'd see him, but I knew there wouldn't be much time after that. And I knew that *I* had to let go, that I had to part from him. And every time I feel like there were things that were left untold and unsolved between us (as there so often are with parents and children, and with people in general), I reurn to that moment, in which I sat alone in a room with my dying father and my so-young baby, and crystalized my love and asking-for-forgiveness and letting-go of all things that couldn't be amended. I keep returning to that moment. I go yearly to me father's grave (though this year COVID19 may prevent me from doing that), but the most tangible thing for me is not the stone on top of his grave, but the clear memory of that moment.
What I'm trying to say with all that meMeME couldn't-matter-less-to-anybody-else at such times, is that you've created such a beautiful moment, such an important memory, for all your family, to return to. You've filled your parting with grace and love and care, not just longing and sorrow. For all those who loved him. And it's so very important, currently, and for it as a memory to add to all good memories from him.
And taking Matilda's card with you means that she's part of that, in the deepest sense. She's obviously angry and aching now, how can she not? But she'll find out, when she can, that there's also that. And I hope it brings her some comfort.
And it's like Trudy said so wisely - she'd probably be angry, no matter what, because she's angry at the whole siuation, at losing her grandfather, at the world being so crazy and out of so much of what makes it her world. So you are the target, because she trusts you to be able to contain it, to not-shatter at it. And it's so hard, to carry that on top of everything, and that's part of what love means in such strange complicated times.
I wish I knew what to say. Um, I mean, I've used such large paragraphs right now trying to figure out what to say, I'm sitting with the laptop in my lap instead of doing a thousand other things, just in order to reach out, to say something, but I've spent all those paragraphs meMeME-ing because I don't really know what to say. There's nothing anyone can say that can change anything. So I'd better just shut my keybord, and wish I could use my arms for a hud from afar.
Take care. The waiting is draining, and it may get worse before it starts getting beter, and the sorrow never really ends. And lacking the comfort of being able to go through it with so many others is even more difficult. However, at some point the good memories won't be drowned by that sorrow, but rather accompany it. And what you did today will definitely help in that process, for so many people.
I'm not able to write anything that doesn't seem to me as condescending or awkward or off-the-point, so I'll stop now. All I really wanted to write, when taking away the meMeME parts, is {{JZ}} and {{Hec}} and {{Matilda}} and {{all your family}}.