Love Lives On

This time of year is a bit difficult for the Morrison family.  Eleven years ago, my husband’s grandfather lost his battle with cancer and passed away on Thanksgiving Day.  Just two days prior to that, one of my husband’s first cousins on the Morrison side passed away due to health complications.

Two deaths in the family within two days … that was a hard Thanksgiving week.

And the same week one year later wasn’t any easier, as we said goodbye to my father-in-law, Harold.  Harold had been diagnosed with cancer a little over a year prior, and he passed away on the one-year anniversary of the death of my husband’s cousin.

Another painful Thanksgiving week.

And just last year at this time, my husband’s uncle passed away, and we found ourselves at his funeral the exact same week.

Yes, Thanksgiving comes with some heartache for the Morrison family.

But Thanksgiving also comes with gratitude and blessings.  Because while these departed loved ones are dearly missed, we still have the love they left behind.

And their love will never leave us.  The impact they made on our lives and the lives of so many others will carry on.  And their memories will live on.

I’ve found myself thinking of Harold more than ever this year.  In part due to it being the ten-year anniversary of his passing, but more so due to this year’s experiences.

As I mentioned in my last blog post, my husband, P.G., and I moved back to our hometown earlier this year.

P.G. and I met when we were in high school, but we didn’t attend the same high school as we each lived in different communities that were zoned to different school districts.

The community that P.G. lived in was where he and his older brother were raised.  They made many memories there, a lot of which revolved around sports.

Both P.G. and his brother played sports growing up and loved every minute of it, as did their dad.  Harold coached P.G. and his brother throughout their little league years, and he cheered them on every step of the way as they went on to play for their junior high and high school sports team – the Patriots.

But Harold’s support of the Patriots didn’t stop when his sons graduated.  He was an avid fan of Patriots sports and continued to frequent games as the years wore on.

Which makes this year bittersweet.

When we decided to move back to our hometown, our son, Landry, had a few choices of where to go to school.

But it was no question to Landry – he wanted to go to school where his dad had gone and carry on the Patriots tradition.  And he wanted to play sports with his cousin, the son of P.G.’s brother, who also attended school there.

The boys are only one month apart in age.  And despite having not lived near each other, they have always had a close relationship.

This was the boys’ first year of high school, and they joined the football team playing both offense and defense.  On offense, Landry’s cousin played quarterback and Landry played running back, so they ran a lot of plays together.

It was such a joy to see these two on the field together.  Words can’t describe it.  It was such a special experience.

And it was great to be there with family and friends cheering them on, but I kept thinking of the one fan that was missing from the stands.

Harold would have been so proud of these boys.  He was always proud of all his grandkids, and with his love of sports and being a loyal Patriots’ supporter, no doubt he would have been the boys’ biggest fan.  He would have been beaming with pride.

I know P.G. and his brother miss being able to share moments like this with Harold, but I’m so glad they have each other and are able to experience these moments with their sons together now and to pass along memories of Harold to the boys.

The boys were so young when Harold passed away that they didn’t get to build many memories with him themselves.  Our daughter, Lexi, the eldest grandchild, is the only one who had that opportunity – an opportunity which she cherishes dearly.

But for the boys (including another younger son of my brother-in-law’s), most of what they know of Harold comes from the stories we share with them.

So that’s what we do to keep Harold’s memory alive.  We tell stories.  We make sure the kids know what kind of man Harold was and what he stood for.

Harold was a kind man, a genuine soul.  He was who he was and never put on any pretenses.  He was full of life and loved to laugh.

He was a generous man, always willing to lend a hand.  And he was a Christian man who lived out his faith.

He was a man loved by many and who impacted the lives of many.

And he loved his family, especially those grandkids.  This we make sure they know.

And while we don’t know why Harold was taken from this life early, we do trust that he is in a better place and that one day we will see him again.

Until then, we hold on to our faith in God.  We hold on to our hope of being reunited.  And we hold on to the love that we received.

And we pass on that faith, that hope, that love.

Because someday our lives on this earth will also end, but the love we give … the love lives on.

 “And these three remain: faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love.”  1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)