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Epilogue
Karen Mooradian
It has been a little over four years since my dad died. It’s funny to think of all that has changed since he passed on, how much my brother and sisters and I have accomplished. Joe now has a wife and recently had a son, Nieko, who already hears so many fond memories and stories of the grandfather he will never meet. Last week, he began crawling on the pink hospital blanket my dad wore his last few days. Kathryn also got married and recently got accepted into P.A. school-which she will return to Grand Valley State University to pursue. Laura will be moving on with her studies in holistic medicine to Baster University in Washington this Fall. Leslie, graduating high school in June, will be going to Michigan State University, anxious to study the sciences just as our father has done.
Sometimes, though, the pain does overshadow the love in our hearts, and sometimes it gets foggy, but we are strong and seek each other out for laughs, or hugs, or stories when we need one. Luckily, the hugs and laughs and stories are endless.
Family has proven to me time and time again to be the single most important aspect in life, especially as I watch mine grow and see the dynamics shift. And even though we are all older and traveling our separate ways and branching out, we will always be one, with common roots to a single tree. Everyday I see pieces of my father in all of us, and everyday I am proud of my last name, of where I come from, of where I’ve been, and where I’m going and therefore, I have no need to ever forge anybody’s name again-as my own is simply perfect.
I know he would be proud of us; he always has been.
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