We were half way to Ohio, stopping for the night to ease the drive for our tired family. I called just to check in with my mom, as Grandpa had been in the hospital a week, and we knew that he was really fighting to stay alive. Things were happening slowly, and on Friday morning when we left, it seemed we would make it in time to see him in the hospital. That turned out not to be the case. He died only about an hour before my phone call. Despite my logical understanding that this was going to happen, and even my understanding that it has been impending for quite some time, as he has fought the face of Parkinson's disease for years...it was still a shock. The emotional wind was knocked out of me. I closed the bathroom door in our hotel room so as to not worry my innocent 2 year old jumping on the bed, and just cried. He held on for so long...and when he finally let go, it was the first time that my grandma, and all three of their daughters, were in the room together with him. It's obvious to me that he wanted it that way. He waited as long as he could, and in the comfort of those most dear to him, he took his last breath.
That was one week ago...December 21st. A week before he went to the hospital, we were thinking he would be home for Christmas again this year. When we finally arrived on Saturday morning, I helped write his obituary...a surreal experience. I am still in a bit of a fog about it all. I still can't sit here and write this without sobbing. I am wearing a Columbia sweatshirt his nephew gave me because he knew Grandpa would like to see me wear it. In his 20's he attended Columbia University where he completed 3 degrees, and played as an All American football player. That was back when the Ivy League was it for football...and they called him the "Ironman". He had such strength, such courage, such love, and such a great sense of humor. He was 90 years old, and had enjoyed nearly 67 years of marriage to my 91 year old grandmother.
We had a very small, private ceremony in his honor at my grandparent's home on Sunday. The home he built for his family with his own hands 50 years ago...the home where nearly everyone in our family has lived at some time...the home where we have had countless holidays, countless lessons, and countless memories...the home that is such an expression of him, and of my grandma, that you can't help but feel his spirit there in every grain of wood. We sang songs with special meaning to us including In the Garden, Here I Am, Lord, and I've Been Working on the Railroad (that one was just for him), read part of a sermon he wrote for his church many years ago, and shared stories that we all hold dear in our hearts. It was very peaceful.
He was a story teller, and I feel so blessed to have heard many tales of his childhood as a poor farmer, his glory days as a football player where he became his own, his courtship of my grandmother (his "Tootsie"), whom he truly actively loved every moment of his life with her, his engineering marvels that will someday help us all enjoy more efficient, less dangerous fuel, his memories of fatherhood rearing 3 daughters, and of course his lessons on how much brown sugar to add to your cereal, how to make fried mush, and how to properly install a ceiling fan.
He took such joy in caring for his family. I rarely remember a day with him when he did not have breakfast cooking in the kitchen by the time I woke...even in the last few years. He would take the time to remove every grape from a bunch and clean them in a bowl just so that his grandkids would enjoy them more. He would stash chocolate away so that he always had it ready to share at the right moment. He would tell a joke so well he'd have you laughing before the punch line. When he was in his late 70's he was still digging trenches in my mom's yard for irrigation, still swimming in the ocean, still making the 10 hour drive to visit us whenever we wanted... for that matter, he did most of that well into his 80's. He took such delight in making sure everyone around him was comfortable and felt loved. He was a PhD, a great athlete, and a very hard worker, but to me he was a Grandpa...always there when I needed him, whether it was for a hug, or to show me how to look under the hood of my car. He was a car guy...the man had a LOT of cars...many of which are still in the driveway with new batteries even though he hasn't driven for years.
I think there are so many things about me and my life that are him...because of him. He silently set a very clear example of what it means to be a good man, good to your family, good to your wife, and good to those around you. I married a man who cooks me breakfast...a man who also got to look up to my grandpa for many years, to hear his stories, and admire his ways. And I feel so blessed to have shared nearly 30 years of my life with Grandpa...to have him walk down the aisle at my wedding...to have him know my daughter...his great granddaughter...and to appreciate him as an adult. He really lived an amazing life when I think of how different things were in 1917 when he was born. He meticulously created a life for himself and for us that we continue to enjoy. He left us with a very special family, and he will live on with us.
Psalm 27
Of David.
1 The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life— of whom shall I be afraid?
2 When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall.
3 Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me, even then will I be confident.
4 One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.
6 Then my head will be exalted above the enemies who surround me;
at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
*****
This is certainly not the best photo I have of my Grandpa, but it is my most recent. This was from a visit we had with him in October. He was in a nursing home getting well after an illness, and having a hard time getting the energy to visit with us for most of our time there. On our last evening, he was wide awake and full of energy for conversation. He took such joy in seeing Hailey (his only great grandchild) running around, singing to him, and conversing back and forth. She was in love with him as we all were...and I think you can see their amazement of each other in this photo. I hope she gets 90 great years as he did, and I know he'll be among the voices that guide her as she grows. 
His obituary can be found at http://www.legacy.com/IndeOnline/Obituaries.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonID=100100302.
We braved the chill on Christmas Eve to visit Hailey's favorite local park. A few months ago when we were here, there was a puddle in this same place that she splashed around in...this time it was a sheet of ice...perfect for "ice skating" with Daddy!
Hailey showed up to Aunt Sondra and Uncle Dan's house dressed for Christmas Eve in her very own Santa suit, knitted by her Grammi. She looked so cute! Santa even paid her a visit there. We sang him a song, he gave her a gift, and then hurried off to visit all the other good little children...Busy guy, you know.
When we got back to Grandma's she made sure to leave out buckeyes and milk before bed so that he would visit her there as well...
...and he did! We played dress up for much of Christmas morning.
She had to try on every piece.
Amidst it all, I still think her very favorite gift was the new box of crayons Santa left for her, just as she had asked him to do.
We finished the day in song, as we often do...Hailey's rendition of Jingle Bells for your viewing pleasure...
