G-paw

Last weekend was a memorial of sorts for my Grandpa Bruce who passed away in November.
After returning home, the thought of blogging about the weekend seemed daunting & overwhelming to me. I'm sure part of it was because there are so many photos to choose from, but more significantly because I had jumbled up feelings of frustration & loss & did not want to tackle that here on this virtual journal.
Those feelings seem to have settled into a deep missing of my G-paw & the acceptance that some aspects of last weekend can never be explained in words.
My G-paw was very involved in the Portland Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden for many years & it was here that we gathered family & friends, dedicated a tree in his honor, & told stories about his life & passions.
After a humid afternoon filled with constant heat & occasional thunder, it started to rain as my sister & I walked the last pathway together out of the park. The drops were soon falling fast & heavy & we both welcomed the cooling wetness, laughing with tears in our eyes because we knew it was G-paw.

"When you come to the end of a good Scout's day
And you sit in the campfire's light
And the peaks are lit in the sun's last ray
O'er the shade of the coming night
And you think what the end of a good Scout's day
Can mean to us comrades true.
When the bugle blows and the flag comes down
And the stars shine in fields of blue,
Well this is the end of a good Scout day."