Grandpa's Gone

My Grandpa passed away a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. We knew it was coming. We had been prepared since the spring. But as many of you know who have experienced loss, being prepared doesn't really make it any easier. I've discovered just how selfish I am now that I have lost two special loved ones. Instead of focusing on the deceased's happiness, I focus too much on the gaping hole in my life that they've left behind. 

The final curtain of life leaves everyone left behind wishing for an encore, and with Grandpa it was no different. I wish I had visited more. I wish I had asked for one more story. I wish I had sung one last song with him. The Grandpa who inspired and challenged me in so many ways is now gone. He was the guiding force behind so much of what shaped our family. He passed on the stories, the debates, the musical talent, the desire to win, and the sarcasm and sharp wit that we all boast of today. One of the most stubborn people I've ever known, he never missed a chance to argue his point, but also always listened to the opposing side, encouraging them to continue the debate. Always the encourager, he respected those with drive and never doubted his children's ability to succeed. 

My early memories of him involved a lot of teasing that would make me laugh, a lot of pranking or provoking that would normally get me in trouble with Mom (but Grandpa would get me out of), and a lot of singing. As I got older, the teasing turned in to more serious talks. Grandpa spent hours telling stories of his Army adventures in Europe, his theological beliefs on Christianity, his perspective on American history, and his successes in the music world. When he wasn't engaging in stimulating conversation, he was outside playing football (even in his 70's) or doing some heavy lifting as if it was nothing. Grandpa was 5'2", but he was every bit of six feet tall in my eyes.

I got to visit him in May to say goodbye. He was already mostly gone. I knew he wouldn't be here much longer. Even though he was in a lot of pain and barely there, he made a point to hold my hand, hug me, kiss me on the cheek, and tell me he loved me.

There is nothing like a Grandpa's love and I miss him so much. 

Five other siblings and myself drove out to Idaho for the funeral (the other siblings flew). Driving 30 hours without stopping except for gas was an experience. We saw Mount Rushmore, which was cathartic. I could hear Grandpa's philosophies and discussion of American history booming in my head as I marveled at the monument and the states we drove through that I had never seen before. 

We were greeted by Mom and Grandma when we made it to Idaho and Mom was beaming like I've never seen her before. She told us how Grandpa's passing was as beautiful as it could be. He was surrounded by all of his children and his wife. Grandma was telling him how much she loved him, and he was telling everyone how much he loved them. There were prayers, there was singing, there was the promise of heaven, and Grandpa made it known that he had received God's love and was excited to see Him soon. My Mom loved her Dad so unselfishly, that she was focusing on her happiness for her dad to be rid of earth and walking with Jesus in heaven. Her enthusiasm was catching and we all relished being with the family in honor of Grandpa's passing. Happy tears, laughter, love, and joy filled Grandma's house as we reminisced about Grandpa's life.

I have always been more selfish than my Mom, but seeing her unselfish love for her Dad pricked my heart and convicted me. The tears flowed and my heart softened towards letting loved ones go. My Grandpa worked hard and loved hard here on earth. He would be so happy for us that we all have each other still. That we loved him so much. And that we were all there to celebrate his life. But Grandpa is truly so much happier to be over with the pain and stresses of this world. I realized then that I really am happy for him, even though I miss him so much.

Grandpa's viewing and memorial service was beautiful. As taps were played when he was laid in to the ground, I couldn't help but think about all the times that Grandpa had proudly played his trumpet. Music was perhaps Grandpa's number one love on earth outside of his wife and children, and he would have been proud to hear those brass notes played as he was laid to rest.

This Thanksgiving I focused on one of the gifts I am most grateful for. The gift of having a grandfather. I am so thankful that I got to experience the joy of loving and being loved by my grandfather for the past 35 years. I am also grateful that I know that my grandpa is happy in heaven now. My children are blessed with the best grandpas around, and now I get to sit back and watch them interact with their grandpas the same way I got to with mine. When I look at it like that, my selfishness dissipates. There really is no gaping hole. The next generation of grandpas are still here and loving and being loved just as fiercely as the generation before. . . and for that, I only cry tears of joy.