For years, I have said that even in the darkest night, there is light if you look hard enough.
Early in this horrific process, I decided that I’d been full of crap. That my view of the world had been naive and my optimism quaint. But now, in the center of this storm, I can say that it is true.
The endless parade of people coming through the house over the last two days to tell Noelle how much they love her.
The grace, elegance, humor, generosity, and love with which she has received them.
The dignity and poise with which she walks this road. The pure, unfiltered intimacy born of walking it with her, for as long as we can.
The laughter – the moments in which the memories bubble up and overflow and stories of mischief and joy fill the room and her beautiful face lights up and the Hard is coated, eased, lightened as the laughter lingers.
The middle of the night when she stirs and my dad immediately materializes by her side and says, “I’m here, my love. I’m right here.” The tremendous comfort she takes in his presence.
The gratitude – so many people thanking her for making their world better and brighter, funnier, more beautiful.
Above all, the love. The moment when, in the depths of grief, at the epicenter of this unimaginable pain, my father hugs his granddaughters and, through his tears, says, “I wish for you a love like this.”
Yes, even in the darkest night, there is light … if you look hard enough.