Greatness Lost

On February 5, I lost another wonderful man in my life.  My grandpa drifted peacefully into the next world at the rehab facility he was moved to the night before.  At nearly 95, his passing wasn’t a complete shock, and yet we all felt blindsided by the news.  Grandpa was another strong man we never thought we’d lose, and yet here we are left without our family patriarch. 

Grandpa was the man who taught me to chew my food slowly and enjoy it.  He was the man who always reminded me to use both sides of a piece of paper so as not to waste anything.  He was the man who would set me up with a tape recorder so I could blabber into the microphone hour after hour (and probably give him some rest, too).  He loved to see me and my brother act like kids and enjoy silliness, but he didn’t like roughhousing because “Someone’s going to get hurt.”  He let us tinker in the basement, and build things with wood and nails that only God could identify.  He loved to have us visit, and then loved to pretend to push the car down the road when we finally left (at least I hope it was pretend).  As we grew, he wasn’t afraid to challenge us with different ideas while debating an issue.  He taught us manners and goodwill, honesty and fairness.  And he taught those things best by living them himself.

While we grieve the loss of one of the greatest men from the greatest generation, we try to take comfort in the knowledge that we witnessed a life well lived.  Grandpa was a success both professionally and personally, and even as his body grew tired and weak in recent years, his smile and his quips let us know he was still the same man we loved all our lives.  When my heart and soul begin to fill up with grief because of where Grandpa isn’t, I try instead to picture him where he is – in paradise, and in peace, and with my beloved Mike.  That vision will have to sustain me until the day we’re all together again.

                                                                    Me and my grandpa