Think and Wonder, Wonder and Think

The last time I lost someone this close to me, I was in the fourth grade and my family and friends mourned the loss of Bryan with completely and complexly confused hearts. That I can say losing Grandpa this much later in my life is the second closest meeting I’ve had with death, mostly means that I’ve lived a charmed life full of vivid people who I’ve gotten to enjoy much longer than I deserve.

Having my own kids has made the luster and magic of a grandparent even more obvious. So as I watch my kids fall in love with my parents, my mother in law, and my grandparents, the love I have for those people has also multiplied. I thought that being a kid was awesome the first time, but this second go allows me to see the magic with a more observant, technical, and appreciative perspective. But all of those things might also make it more emotional because I (unfortunately) know that the time is fleeting.

There are many things Grandpa taught me throughout my life, and the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve respected those lessons. Here is the one I think of most. When Ryan and I found out we were having twins, there was a lot of shock. In this situation, doctors prep you with warnings of troubles during pregnancy, the birth, and their first weeks of life. We were naturally worried. As we started telling family and friends, most reactions were good but we also met lots of shock and worry. Grandpa’s reaction, however, was quite different. I remember calling them up clearly. Grandpa answered the phone. I told him our news, and then I immediately found myself telling him the worries and possible negative outcomes because it had become my first reaction:to try to make people see that I was aware that it could be scary. But Grandpa cut me off as I started to ramble. He told me he knew that the babies and I would be ok because having babies and becoming a mother are two of the most natural parts of our world.  After this phone call, I finally felt like I could set aside my cloak of worry. I have found so much peace of mind in his simple words.

I can’t tell you how often I reflect on this conversation and now, in this much harder time, I hear his words ringing back in my ears. There are many elements of this world that are out of our control but some of them, most of the best parts, fall into the order of nature: a true gift from God. And here as we struggle to figure out why Grandpa reached his time to leave, I’ve come back to the words he told me. Meeting Jesus, just like giving birth, is one of the most natural elements of this often confusing life.

I’ve always thought I’ve had a comforting view of Heaven. But since confronting Grandpa’s death, I have had a lot more questions. Heaven seems unreal and and so far out of reach. How can Grandpa be happy there, when all of us are so sad down here? But as a sweet friend just reminded me, it’s too easy to love our current world and we have to be cognizant of this in order to see Heaven in all its greatness. As more spirits take the step through their heavenly thresholds, I’m going to pray that I can continue to see Heaven as the ultimate gift. And more importantly, I need to remind myself that this current, material world is just a small stepping stone that will eventually lead us to the blessing of true Heavenly eternity. It feels weird to say this, but thanks Grandpa, for this hard reminder.

So Grandpa, we’ll see you in the trees around your house where we played squirrel family for hours. We’ll see you in the basketball hoop where it always happened to be a little too windy when it was your turn to shoot. We’ll remember you in the buckets of pecans that are sitting around our houses. We’ll see you in every Pepsi can and every McDonald’s visit especially when we order up those Big Macs. We’ll see you in nature. We’ll hear you in music. Feel you in crisp airs of winter that I know you and Grandma have always enjoyed. We’ll see you in your family, your wife, your kids, and their offspring.

And while I still feel that your life was cut short, I’ll take in the beauty of your strength because, to me, this is the quality I’ll always remember in you. This is the quality God has blessed me with remembering.

I’ll also remember that life is passing.

Until we meet again, Grandpa, let us walk by faith and not by sight. My trust is in God and in the Heaven that can actually be described as unreal and out of my reach because it is beyond any of my current understandings. And we’ll let you continue to be a part of our hearts as we embrace Grandma and the lives we are still to live here on earth while you are watching us in Heaven.