hallelujah

I admitted it out loud last night:

I have a really hard time being sad that Grandpa died.

It sounds hateful and cold when taken out of context, but it is the truth in my heart. My grandfather lived 80 long, rich, full years. Years full of love, and family, and celebrations. The last 40 of those years were also full of some kind of pain. And that pain is no more.

Hallelujah.

I was privileged to know the love of my grandfather. To have held his hand, to have kissed his shiny bald head, to have smelled his English Leather aftershave, to have heard his laugh - the kind that brought tears to his eyes. I bear witness to my grandparents' generosity, over and over and over, every Christmas, birthday, graduation, time and time again.

Hallelujah.

I was blessed to hear him sing. To sing with him, in the car, in church, at the kitchen table. I was blessed to watch him read and write. To reflect on the joy in his life and to remember what was important. To work crossword puzzles and debate politics. To record his daily happenings, because God is in the details.

Hallelujah.

I am grateful that my memories of Grandpa are positive and beautiful. I am grateful that my grandfather's legacy will extend long past my generation. I am grateful that he is whole and complete and standing--upright and pain-free--in the presence of God.

Hallelujah.

I enjoyed the life and love and laughter of my grandfather for all of my 23 wonderful years. I will carry his memory with me for the rest of my life. I will teach my children about the incredible man he was.

Hallelujah.

And though I will miss him on holidays, at weddings, and when we celebrate births, I know he is exactly where he ought to be. It is the reward for a full and faithful life.

Hallelujah.

We all grieve in different ways, and though my tears are few, my smiles are many. My grandfather was a good man, who married a good woman, who raised good children, who loved his grandkids. We will remember him well and continue the love. And we will praise the God who gave him to us and gave us to each other.

Hallelujah.

a grief observed

My grandfather, Robert Gene Thomas, passed away in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

Which is an uncomfortably sterile way of saying that my Grandpa Bob is now with Jesus.

It is sad, and we will miss him, and finding the right words to describe him to my children someday will be an impossible task.

BUT.

He is pain-free for the first time in 40 years. He has a new body. He is walking the streets of heaven unassisted, with no walker, no cane, not even a limp. He is praising God in the presence of God.

Today I will watch football and drink a Diet Mountain Dew in memory of Grandpa Bob, knowing that I would trade my reality for his in a heartbeat.