Pitter Patter and Goodbyes

Please don't cry for me, for where sweet saints go is where I'll soon be. 

Please don't cry for me because soon my pain will be gone,  I'll be at rest, soon I'll finally be home. Please don't cry for me, be blessed by the life I led, be blessed by the future ahead. 

Please don't cry for me, but remember this day, this day I had with you. 

 Little feet thump thump, thump on the wooden floors. The bittersweet sound of children in the room of soul soon to leave. 

They said he hadn't opened his eyes most of the day but he was wide eyed once he heard the children. We held his hand as Aunt micki rubbed his head, tears filled the room on and off. She leaned over and ask if he was tired of her asking him if he knew who she was... But his pretty blue eyes says it all, he doesn't have the names or even the strength to say the words, but there's a familiar look in his eyes. His eyes tell us that he knows our faces and knows we are there because we love him. 

The grunts of a newborn makes it obvious there's a new soul in a room. Babies bring such a peace with them, they bring future with them. It's a good feeling seeing generations meet. Braylon told him about walking out to see his animals, probably for the last time. We talked about his rooster named Houston, he started to make sounds and move his lips like he was trying to talk, we never made sense of it but we all shouted and cried. It  reminded me of the excitement you feel when a baby first makes noises and says words, though their journey is just beginning, old and new souls share some of the same tender moments of similarities. These are his last words and noises and so appropriately are over animals. I wish my boys had met him sooner, all three of them, they all admire him. The goats, the tractors,land and hard work. Michael always returns home from Uncle Ed's saying he wants to be like him when he "grows up". Our little red brick house on less than an acre is far from Uncle Ed's kind of living. When you come into people's lives at certain points in their lives, you don't see their struggle that got them there, you just find a kindred spirit in them and feel like you know what got them there. Michael recognizes the hard work Uncle Ed put in, even into his 80's he's one of the hardest working man we know. These things probably makes it the hardest seeing his stern, and smart Aleck self, being helpless and vulnerable. It's just sad and it hurts your heart to see, no matter the age. I remember when we went to tell grandma Croom goodbye, it was so peaceful, she knew us and told us she loved us, but when disease takes your mind, your goodbye can feel a little cheated. His words were loss, but he insisted on holding any hand that found his. This post doesn't make very much sense but neither does cancer, or saying goodbyes or why we have to see the suffering of our family.  We have to take peace with it and hold their hand a little longer when they squeeze it.