Life and death.

I feel so completely different today. Strange. Slightly odd. Highly emotional and yet not outwardly expressive - more quiet, reflective, pensive.

Bjorn's grandfather passed away last night. I knew him fairly well - I spent time with him whenever I visited Bjorn, especially on New Year's Days when the entire family gathered together. Whenever Bjorn spoke of his Opa, it was with an obvious respect and love. He was a good man who worked hard, loved his family and provided for them, and had a fighters spirit right up until the end. He climbed trees until he was 83. And he adored Bjorn. "That's MY boy," he told Bjorn's mother when Bjorn visited me for Christmas. Opa was in the hospital with pancreatic cancer and missed his grandson. Despite Bjorn insisting the contrary, I will always feel a slight guilt for being the reason Bjorn wasn't at his grandfather's side for those two weeks during the holidays.

Opa passed peacefully in his sleep, relieved of the burden of cancer and infection. I am glad he is no longer suffering, but the family he loved hurts. They will hurt for awhile. I hurt, and I wasn't as close to him as Bjorn and his sister were. Opa was always kind to me, and though we needed the family to translate in order for us to communicate, we had good visits. I think he liked me - at least, I hope he did. I certainly liked him.

In the last few days since he got worse, my heart has been heavy. And that takes a toll on a person. I hurt for Opa, I hurt for Bjorn, I hurt for the family I love so much. I wanted to make their pain go away, while struggling with my own grief. They had all accepted his passing before he went, a strength I admire deeply. And they included me in it - keeping me updated from 5,000 miles away, caring about how I felt as much as they felt. They shared a private loss with an outsider, because they have accepted me into their family. And that means the world to me.

Death has a funny way of shifting your perception on life. It makes you re-prioritize, and suddenly so many worldly things and issues that we worry about every day don't mean as much anymore. Suddenly, school and grades and tests don't have nearly as much weight as they used to. They aren't the most important focus in my life - at least, I don't have to worry and stress over them as much as I used to. Taking the bus instead of having a car isn't so much of a burden. Not having enough money to go shopping or buy myself anything besides paying bills doesn't ruin my mood as much as it used to. And frankly, I am not in the slightest bothered by people who don't like me. That's life.

The things that are most important aren't things. Family is number one - and always has been - but being with them is more urgent than ever. Love is the single most important thing in the world, and without it, you truly have nothing. I am grateful to have so much love in my life. My parents are wonderful role-models and my heroes, and I can't express how much I love and respect them -- and how grateful I am that they love me and are proud of me in return. I have grown up with the blessing of my grandparents close to me, despite losing my dad's father when I was seven. I consider my parents' siblings not only aunts and uncles, but friends as well.

I have dear friends who would do anything for me, and I for them. And I consider myself truly blessed to be loved by another person - the man whose family has accepted me into their arms.

Today, all I want to do is be with them. My family, my boyfriend, his family, my friends. I want to laugh and talk and chat, and I want to cry and hug and tell everyone how much I love them.

And I want to go live my life. I want to break out of this routine box I live in every day, and embark on an adventure. I want to travel the world - climb mountains, swim in lakes, watch sunsets and sunrises, sleep under a desert sky full of stars, learn new languages and eat new foods, step on the soil of many countries and meet people all over the globe. I want to marry the one person I love more than anything in the world and spend the rest of my life with him. I want a family of my own. I want to have children and raise them to be good, honest, hard working people. Like Opa did. He and Oma were together for over 60 years, raised children, saw them raise their own children, and watched a beautiful family blossom. A family that was all by his side when he took his last breath.

I think Opa accepted that it was time to go because his life was so full and rich, and he had done all he wanted to do. He left behind a beautiful legacy in the people he had created and the people who loved him, and in them, he will never die. It was time to go to sleep, because he was tired. He made peace with the world and with God, and said goodbye.

And I can only hope that, when my time comes, I will have lived a full life. I won't have regrets. And I will have the same strength and courage to say goodbye, like Opa.
~