Saying Goodbye

When I close my eyes and picture my grandpa, all I can see is his mischievous grin and that unmistakable twinkle in his eyes. I remember the way his shoulders would shake with laughter when he would tell stories from his childhood. That pride in his voice when he told us of the time he had dipped his classmate’s pigtails into his ink jar. I am sure none of the little girls wanted to sit in front of him at school after that. The teachers sure had their work cut out for them.

Grandpa had a such a playful way about him. I remember many secret glances we shared at the table. He’d give a little wink or sly smile when we would try to sneak another piece of chocolate cake onto his plate, or an extra banana muffin.  

 

Growing up he always made us feel like we were a priority. He took endless trips with us to that little park around the corner where he would spend hours and hours spinning us on the merry go round. I remember calling down from the top of the slide “Grandpa, watch me!” and he would always be smiling and cheering from below. He spent hour upon hour with us, searching for four leaf clovers at that park. And when it was time to go home he would take our little hands and lead us back.

 

Afternoons after school with grandpa were when he would pull out his big culinary guns. His two signature dishes were…. Apples peeled with his apple peeler and my very favorite- vanilla ice cream spread between two saltine crackers.

 

Grandpa just loved being outside. And He always included us with his passions. He loved to hunt and loved to fish. But the hobby that grandpa enjoyed that sticks out the most for me was his garden. Grandpa’s garden was something to envy. He lovingly tended to row upon row of fresh vegetables. I remember going with him to water his garden many time and to watch how his vegetables were growing. I can still taste his fresh carrots. There is nothing, nothing, like the carrots from grandpa’s garden.

 

Our family had so much fun playing games together. We would have crazy eight tournaments and many games of rummy, rummoli and aggravation. I remember many times we would play a few games together and then the kids would go to bed and I could hear my parents, aunt and uncle and grandparent’s play well into the night. A few years ago grandpa gifted each of his grandchildren a handcrafted aggravation board. As I sit around and play on that board that he made with my own little family I treasure the gift he crafted for me.  I imagine the time it took to carve and drill out each hole and I am touched by his labor of love for his family.

 

My memories of grandpa in my growing up years are obviously full and rich. They are truly a gift. But along with those memories I am going to treasure the conversations and moments I shared with him over the past year. Grandpa opened up about many things. He told me fun stories of when my mom and aunt were little. He spoke about building that awesome doom buggy and about picking Grandma up downtown from work in it. And of course he shared many, many hunting stories.

>We also opened up about our faith and spoke about Jesus together.

 

 

It is hard to say goodbye to such a man. But I know, in the deepest parts of my heart that Grandpa knew Jesus and is now home.