RESTING PLACE

Nathan's grandfather passed away right after his radiation treatment was complete and right before my parents came through town to take the kids on their little trip. He hadn't been in good health for a long while so, we'd been expecting it pretty much since the beginning of the year. He was 87.

June 2009

June 2010

I haven't had any grandparents for close to 20 years so, I sent this email to my dad...

Nathan's grandpa (Joe's dad) passed away Sunday morning. This is his first time experiencing losing a grandparent. I really don't know what to say but I wondered if you might have some comforting words for Jane and Joe about losing a parent. They are all having a very hard time...Especially Joe's mom. They've been married for 60 years.

This was his reply...

Bummer. Obviously words can not replace the one that has been lost, and even though what we say may be very profound (at the time we speak them) they are often NOT heard because the survivors are too caught up in the moment - shock, grief, anger, questioning, etc. Just the other day I listened to Alan Jackson's "Remember When"...there is a lot of emotion in his music and this is possibly what we would want people to say to us or about us - remember when?

We are also told in numerous poems, movies etc that we never lose them if we continue to speak of them and refer to them in our daily living. I think the Jewish Nation does a tremendous job with this when they reference those who have gone before them - even back to Abraham.

Sixty years together (your mom and I are 2/3's there) make it difficult to think about the other person being gone, but so often I think we have become them and they us. What we are today and tomorrow is molded by their presence in our lives. Let's see 60 years times 365 days times 24 hrs equals 525,600 hours...I think we become very much alike.

This all said, the one remaining has much to ponder, rejoice...neither of which will replace the one departed...the legacy continues in Joe, Nathan, Cole - WOW, she certainly has a fine specimen of a shade tree under which she can reflect and give thanks.

I would never do well delivering an address at a funeral - probably one of the reasons I decided against being a pastor - people hear what they want to hear, expect you to say what they want you to say, and sadly often don't hear what you say. Words are cheap. Maybe over the days to follow the deeds are more important. I remember my dad saying it was so lonely after mom died. All the people from the church went back to their routine and the plates which food was provided were returned to them and then there was nothing.

I ramble...tell Nate we are sorry for his loss, but believe the legacy does continue.

Thank you, Dad...Your thoughts were amazing and really struck a chord with Nathan's parents. Joe mentioned your email to Nathan as soon as he picked him up from the airport and said they really appreciated it.

I also asked my mom to go up to the viewing to represent me. Of course, she said she'd be glad to do so. Nathan said he'd never been so happy to see her because it made him feel like I was there with him. Thank you so much for doing that, Mom. That meant so much to Nathan, as well as, the words and feelings you expressed to his grandma.

Since Grandpa was a military veteran, he was able to be buried at the Dallas/Fort Worth National Cemetery. He never spoke of his time that he served in World War II. He just said he never wanted to speak of the things he saw there again. While going through the house, they found paper work that he had received four bronze metals. No one, including his wife of 60 years, knew about them. Unbelievable.

Grandpa made fiddles for all of his children and grandchildren. He was a fiddle and guitar player in a band back in the old days in New Mexico. They are amazing and mean so much to everyone that has one.

Nathan picked what wood he wanted when he was 9 years old.

He chose birds eye maple...Very pretty.

It was very fitting that he went to his final resting place with a fiddle in his hand.

Happy Fishing...From your grandkids

WHAT AN HONOR...

What a beautiful place to rest.

No more pills, no more aches and pains...Just peace.