Today is a difficult day. One year ago my grandfather went to be with his loving Savior.
Although nothing will compare to getting the phone call from my dad, or walking into the funeral home the first time, strong emotion still grabs me from time to time. When we sang the Old Rugged Cross at church a few weeks ago, I was brought to tears. When I watched my cousin play basketball, I cried. When I walked into my grandma’s house to visit her, I had to go in the other room to compose myself. When my run completely fell apart last night, I walked home sobbing.
This only shows how much my grandpa meant to me – and how much I truly miss him.
My grandpa wasn’t outspoken. He usually sat at the table with a smirk on his face as the family members told stories.
My grandpa supported us in many ways. He came to our sporting events and birthday parties, looking on with pride and approval.
My grandpa was a hard worker. He was usually at the farm, his place of solace, making sure the chores were done.
My grandpa made us smile. He brought us turtles that he found on the side of the road or took us fishing at the pond.
My grandpa was a man of integrity and honesty. He believed in people when others didn’t.
My grandpa loved us, his wife, kids, grandkids and great-grandkids, with every ounce of his being. He truly passed down a legacy.
A few months ago, a friend of my grandpa’s came to me and said, “Your grandpa was so proud of you. Every time someone mentioned your name, his face would light up.” I hold that thought deep in my heart and use it when things get tough. That memory, along with so many others, are ones I will cherish forever.
Every day I think of him. Every day I miss him. Every day I look forward to the day when I’ll see him again.
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