The little guy grabbed his grandma’s face, and she made noises to play along. His hands found her ears. He held on and giggled. Then he played peekaboo with the people behind him and went back to his grandma’s face each time he hid.

            The whole back row was filled in support of the baby dedication. Young parents. Grandparents. Great Grandparents. Other friends and relatives. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the family interact. It was just yesterday that my whole family filled the back row. Once for my oldest, fourteen years ago, and again for my youngest ten years ago. Both sets of my grandparents attended the baby dedication and were filled with life and joy. So much can change in a decade.

            My tears were a brackish mix of thankfulness and sadness. Thankful for the blessing of family and all the wonderful memories we made, like this family in the back row. Sad that the memories with my grandparents had to come to an end.

            Death comes knocking on the door of all our houses. Sometimes we know it’s coming, and many times we are caught unaware. And when it comes, life is over. No more opportunities to right the wrongs. No more chances to stop by for a visit. No more memories that have them in it.

            Watching the family on the back row reminded me to keep making memories while we can. Gather around tables. Travel across the state. Linger a little longer. Play one more game. Because we never know when those special people will be called to their heavenly home.