I watched such a moment not long ago at a woman’s funeral (葬礼). I didn’t expect the event to affect me. Through much of the ceremony, in fact, I remained unmoved.

　　Then her teenage grandson stepped forward. With his very first deep breath, every heart in that church was achingly reminded of something we had all forgotten. Softly he began: “I want to share a few values that Nana taught me. She never failed to see light in any situation. When our family dog would literally attract her, what would Nana say? ‘Oh, what beautiful markings that dog has.’ That was Nana.

　　“She was a strong woman who often lived in the shadow of my grandpa, who was a successful businessman in this city. But she was the one behind the scenes who provided the strength and support for Grandpa’s career,” he said, with a voice now trembling. “That was Nana’s way.”

　　Through a muffled sob, he continued. “Whenever she did anything worth recognition, you’d have to hear about it from a different source, because she was never one to brag.”

　　Finally, in a voice breaking free of sorrow, he looked up and said, “Nana taught me courage. She put up an incredible fight to the end, when she died peacefully, which is how she lived her life. That was Nana’s way, and I hope I can carry on in the same manner.”

　　There are no hearts as sensitive as those of teenagers, because everything is happening to them for the first time. The trouble with teenagers is that they haven’t learned to be controlled.

　　When that boy rose to speak about the woman who surely had been his truest ally and dearest friend, his honest voice dragged each of us out into the open where we could no longer hide in the calm ritual. He exposed us to the truth about this very real woman who believed in a boy who probably tried the patience of many adults. He reminded us that his grandmother was more than another dot on the chart of life and death.

　　All over again we felt those powerful losses crisscrossing our own hearts, and we knew that when you say good-bye to a beloved grandparent, you say good-bye to something happy, something young in yourself. And that something never really returns, and the pain never really goes away.