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Saying Goodbye to Grampa

3.20.2014

As many of you already know, my grampa passed away this past October. We all obviously knew the day would eventually come, but nothing can ever fully prepare you to say your final goodbye to a loved one. I had the honor of speaking at his funeral. Here is what I had to share:

Grampa had the largest hands you'd ever seen. Seriously. When I'd hold his hand even as an adult, his would inevitably swallow mine in their gentle, calloused way. His hands spoke of years of hard manual labor, working in a factory repairing cranes. Grampa was a tough man in his younger years; strict in the way he ran his household and managed his four boys. He wasn't the perfect father, but when his youngest son, my dad Ray, needed him most, he was there. Grampa was there to drive my biological mother to her chemo treatments. He loved Maureen as if she were his own daughter. Grampa was there to drive us to school, wearing his cool patterned brimmed hats. Grampa was there to help Gramma pack up a cooler with a picnic lunch (allowing us to choose our own flavor of pop), and take us to Monroe Falls for a swim on a hot summer day. Grampa was there to cook bacon for our BLTs - a weekly dinner favorite - wearing his white butcher apron and constantly reminding us and Gramma to stand back so the hot grease wouldn't splatter on our fair skin. Grampa was there to trim my bangs, doing his best to keep them even while I wiggled impatiently on that rickety stool. Grampa was there, showing up at our house with a bag full of fresh vegetables that he'd harvested from his beautiful garden. Grampa was there to take us to the movies with a big brown grocery bag full of freshly popped popcorn for all of us to share. Grampa was there to eventually embrace another daughter, my mom Bonnie, and welcome her into his family. And over the past several years that Grampa had lived on his own in an apartment, he was there to greet us at the door, welcoming us in with a hug and a kiss. He would then sit with us and tell us stories of times past. It was always difficult for him to be a part of this chaotic current world, especially without his bride by his side. Any time I would call Grampa, he would answer with his signature "Hel-lo!" and as soon as I would say "Hi Grampa! It's me, Kelly!" he would laugh and say "My Kelly!" If I close my eyes for even just a second, I can almost feel the squeeze of his large hands and see those cloudy brown eyes looking back into mine. Even when Grampa couldn't be physically present any longer, he was present in spirit, praying for me as I became a wife, a mother, and while I suffered through the dark valley of postpartum depression and anxiety. Grampa was a constant in our lives. It was comforting to know that even though we were separated by distance, he was still there. Lord Jesus, thank you for the time you've given us with this man - the good and the bad, the hard and the happy. In the midst of our grief, it brings me great joy to imagine his broken body fully restored, walking with ease on the streets of gold. Thank you Grampa for caring for and investing in the lives of five young girls who are now grown women. Your legacy lives on. We love you, we miss you, and we look forward to being reunited with you on the other side of eternity.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for sharing, Kel. I am so glad I got a chance to meet Grampa. I loved him immediately, but more so when I hear you talk about him. <3

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