Fireworks and a 10-year tribute

Toast to the final goodbyes we never see coming

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For the second time this year (I swear I didn’t plan this), the Time Intentional newsletter schedule serendipitously aligns with the 10th anniversary of my grandfather, Dale’s, unexpected loss.

Today marks 10 years since he parted, by official causes to medical reasons, but unofficially, to a broken heart after losing my grandmother. Today is a special edition of Time Intentional, in honor of Dale. And one that’s even more difficult to write than the last.

After my grandma’s unexpected passing at the end of April in 2015, I finished the spring semester of my junior year of undergrad and headed home for the summer to be with my family.

I knew my grandpa’s heart had shattered, and I wanted and needed to be close to him while he grieved. Watching him pace through the hospital and make some of the most painful decisions he would ever make about my grandma’s final moments on Earth took its toll.

He was part of a generation in which discussing emotions was unheard of—closed off to the rest of the world, hiding behind the insurmountable pain of a broken heart.

So, I came home for the summer intending to spend as much time with him as possible and make sure he never felt alone. And that’s precisely what I did.

For 10 weeks, up until his unexpected departure, we saw my grandpa almost every day. He’d invite my sister and me over to swim at the pool in his neighborhood, offer to take us out shopping, or grab lunch, and loved doing anything with us to have our company. My mom would cook dinner, and he’d come over and eat with us after working at my dad’s autobody shop all day. My parents were in the process of building a new home, so my grandpa would ride with us to see how the construction was progressing. Once, he even helped make my bed and short-sheeted me! A practical jokester deep down at heart.

We quickly folded him into our family of four and became a family of five.

As the weeks passed and the 4th of July approached, my sister and I asked to have a fun-filled holiday sleepover at my grandpa’s house. We bought matching 4th of July Snoopy shirts, party supplies, and a puzzle to do together. We picked up Noodles & Company for dinner because he knew it was our favorite, and he promised us Starbucks for breakfast (a grandfather after his granddaughters’ hearts).

A grandpa and his two granddaughters wearing Snoopy 4th of July shirts and smiling and making silly faces at the camera

Grandpa Dale and his girls on July 3, 2015

We spent most of July 4th with him before leaving to watch fireworks with family friends, to which he said he preferred to stay home and rest.

The sleepover is my last memory with him, as he passed away on July 6th.

Fourth of July weekend stirs up a fragile yet wonderful blend of memories and grief for me. Whenever I see fireworks, I think of those final moments together, and how we never truly know when we’re saying goodbye for the last time.

What does it mean to be fully present in someone’s final season, especially when you don’t know it’s the last? I wish I could hear his perspective, but here are a few things it taught me:

  • We think we have time, and sometimes we do. Until suddenly, we don’t. Time isn’t promised, and “later” is a myth. Intentionality means choosing now.

  • We rarely know which moments will become sacred (read: kairos) in hindsight. Choose to show up and be present, no matter how “everyday” they might seem. Infuse ordinary moments with warmth and your full attention when you get the chance. I can’t think of a single instance in which you might regret it.

  • Intentionality isn’t always dramatic (in fact, it rarely is). Sometimes it’s a matter of choosing again and again to be where love is.

  • Grief strips life of distraction and noise, pulling back the curtain on what matters most to us in a world that doesn’t support slowing down to reflect on such. In the rawness of loss, we find what matters: who we love, how we want to spend our time, and the impermanence of the world around us. The grief I experienced made it impossible to ignore how I want to live (spending time intentionally) and why it’s become my calling to help others do the same. I know my grandpa Dale wouldn’t want it any other way.

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I’m Alyssa Towns, and this is Time Intentional, a newsletter exploring what it means to spend our limited (and precious) time intentionally. Extend your love and support by sharing this newsletter with someone you know or buying me a coffee! ☕

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