Experiencing loss of any kind is never easy. As humans, we experience loss daily-jobs, loved ones, and relationships to name a few.
This summer we lost an incredible man who taught us so much about life and what it meant to live well. At the end of September we returned to Lake Michigan, a place infused with childhood memories to celebrate the life of Dr. Lyall Louis Frank.
As stories of the past were retold tears of sadness and joy slowly rolled down family faces. Memories were rekindled and looking back at old photo albums one thing was clear, with an arm full of tiny humans and a glitter in his eye, he truly cherished the time he spent with us. My grandpa loved babies-he even remembered the names of all of the babies he delivered and that was A LOT of babies. Although we miss him terribly, we are thankful for the time we had with him and that he is no longer in pain.
Earlier this year, our sister Amy and her husband Jason experienced a loss of their own. They miscarried their first child and the pain was felt throughout our family. None of us had words for the pain she and her husband experienced. The fact that they would never get to hold their first baby took my breath away.
When Amy got off the plane in Michigan, we could all tell something was a little different but no one really wanted to say anything……until we were huddled in the bathroom at the lake house that evening having our sister time. I looked at Amy and in my abrupt 'middle child' way, I demanded that she told us if she was pregnant or not. She broke. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she said that she was. The four of us girls all cried together, kissed her tummy, and celebrated the new little life inside her. The next day, she surprised everyone else and I will let the images tell that story. They tell the story of the beautiful and perplexing contrast between life and death. While memories of one life were being retold, new stories are in the making.