A year ago, we buried my grandfather.
I think he fit the definition of a narcissist:
One who charms all,
But those who are closest all need counseling.
As we sat outside next to the burial hole,
Rugs covering the grave of my grandma,
The siblings and a few grandchildren and spouses
Gathered to commemorate.
In the midst of so much brokenness,
Most were able to find something good.
Some weren’t.
May God restore all things, in his time.
I was privileged to witness this,
Me and the five boys,
On a hot Tuesday morning
Last September.
No comments:
Post a Comment