Forty-two years ago, I witnessed something that has softened the blow of losing loved ones. Although I was able to see the inherent blessing it had been to my life, it took years to be able to share this story.
In 1979, I was a sophomore in college, heading home for Easter break. As we crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge in New York City, I asked my friend to drop me off at my grandparents’ house in the Bronx. Although my grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer, he had recently replaced a roof for a neighbor. Being naïve, I didn’t think anything could stop Grandpa.
