My sweet grandpa passed away last week. We have been hoping for this happy day for him ever since Grandma died last December. He lived his life for her, and once she was gone, there was not a lot left for him. With Alzheimer's confusing his mind about everything and everyone he ever cared about, it was hard to imagine he was finding much happiness there at the end. But now I'm sure he's happier than ever - back together with his sweetheart, not burdened by his slow body or memory loss any longer. He can think and run and work and laugh and remember and be with the one he loves.
So I am happy for him, but I miss him still. Although I've been missing him for a while, since he has not really been himself in quite some time. Still, I've been thinking a lot about what he and Grandma have given me. About what a huge part of my life they've been, and how much they have influenced who I am. They have helped shape the things I love, the places I find beauty, my appreciation for those who came before me and even before them. They are what I aspire to become.
Grandpa's deep faith and trust in God has strengthened my own. I loved to hear him pray. He talked to God like a close friend, and prayed individually for each member of his family as well as many others. You could feel his total assurance that God was there, that He was listening, that He would take care of all of us. There was power in his voice when he prayed. Perhaps the power came from knowing that God was on his side. They definitely played on the same team. Grandpa was always a force for good.
Grandpa's work ethic was like no other. He was always working. The word "retirement" meant nothing to him. He worked in his sheet metal shop, in his yard, on his tractor, in his orchard, fixing things around the house. His body slowed down, but he didn't.
He had a particular love for people and places. He knew everyone in town - well, in a town like Blanding, everyone knows everyone in town. But he really did know everyone, and every generation of their families. He liked to tell me how I was related to different kids in my grade at school. All he had to hear was a name, and he could tell you the parents and the grandparents and keep going back. You can't know and remember people like that without loving them too. He loved them all.
Since I've been married, he's always been interested in where I live. When we'd come to visit, he'd ask, "Now where are you coming from? Oh, that's some beautiful country up there. Do you like it there?" Having lived all over Utah, he knew and loved it all. Probably he liked to hunt because he liked to be out in nature. The hunting didn't continue after he was older, but the love of the land continues still, I'm sure.
When I was little, we used to "play" at Grandma and Grandpa's house all the time. When we arrived Grandpa would always greet us with a hug and a kiss. We used to laugh about how his kisses were wet, and we had to wipe them off. Some would even call them "slobber kisses." Grandma would rock us and read us stories; cut up apple slices and feed us "grandma" (graham) crackers. Grandpa would take us for rides on the big red tractor, and sometimes on lucky days he would let us stand inside the door of his shop and watch him work. The equipment he worked with was big and dangerous, so he didn't let us get too close, but we loved to watch him work and have him show us some of the things he could do with his machines. The shop always felt shady and cool, and had the smell of metal, which to a kid smelled like a handful of pennies and dimes. Grandpa would let us help him pick fruit from the fruit trees too, or help feed the cats. The cats were just a wild bunch of strays that Grandpa kept happy with table scraps. He was the only one they didn't run away from. Who could run away from Grandpa?
When it was time to go, there were always more hugs and kisses and always the words, "Come again!" Open invitation for forever. We were always, always welcome there. And we always wanted to come again soon. In fact, we never wanted to leave. Once we even found a hiding place good enough that we wouldn't have to go, because Mom and Dad couldn't find us. But unfortunately, fooling our parents was not an acceptable way to gain access to an extended stay at Grandma and Grandpa's house. They always knew how to talk us into wanting to be good, too.
I will miss Grandpa. I'm glad we are a family forever. I'm so thankful to be his granddaughter. To know him and love him and have his influence in my life. Thank you, Grandpa, for being the amazing man you are, for loving me always, for teaching me about faith and love and by your words and by your example. Thanks for the grammar lessons, history lessons, geneology lessons, and the slobber kisses. Thanks for treating Grandma like your queen. Thanks for everything. I love you.
