Wellington - A Beautiful Day of Sadness

A couple days after our arrival in New Zealand, my grandfather fell and broke his hip. His health had been declining for a few years. His heart was too weak for surgery, and he passed away on Oct. 1. Francis L. McCarter was on the Earth for 94 years, and he waited until I was halfway around the world to leave it. I couldn't help but laugh at the irony, it made the sadness hurt a little less.

Hubs had to work the day I'd learned of his passing, and knew I wouldn't be able to make it home for the funeral. It was a beautiful day in Wellington, so I took a walk along the water.

My grandfather was a kind, peaceful soul. He loved nothing more than going to the local airport and watching the planes take flight. He'd been a pilot in WWII, and I think there was a dream of flying as a career that never materialized. He also loved his family so, so much. There was nothing he wouldn't do for us, and we felt that love every day.

I journaled on a bench along the sea dedicated to Gita Patel.

Maybe she and Grandpa have met somewhere in the great beyond.

The tide keeps coming.

The sun keeps shining.

Some days stand still.