Hey, it's Kate! Oh, how I wish i could be there right now to see you. I am writing this because there are a couple things I want to say. And since I don't know that I will be able to get up there as soon as I want to I figured I would write it in an email. (I actually bought a card earlier today, but then decided not to give "snail mail" a chance either!)
I want to say first that I love you. I love your loud voice that echoes and rings brightly (that you passed along to my father). I love your knack for being able to fix ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. I love that you picked on us over the years and thickened our skin a bit. I love how you'd sit at the end of the table at Christmas dinner and throw rolls and get us all riled up. I love the wrapping paper fights and the laughter. All that laughter - my fondest memories are filled with lots and lots of laughter! I love the way you have swooped in to save and support when I needed it most. I love that you love me and I've never questioned that for a minute.
One thing my daughter Lucy taught me is to not fear death. When the Lord says it is MY time, I will go. And I feel good about being able to say that. When dad told me that you said you were ready to go to heaven last night, I knew everything was going to be okay. (Now, we also know that Grandma Parker said that for years, so you just never know!) I felt compelled to write to you because I needed to tell you at least one more time that I love you.
Now, I feel like I share a special bond with you since we both have lost a baby. I know that was a long time ago for you, but when I consider the fact that we get to see those babies up in heaven one day it warms my heart. If you get there first, please give my Lucy a big hug for me (and maybe teach her how to fix a thing or two).
I always think of you when I eat ham and pineapple pizza - I have no idea why. It just reminds me of you coming to visit us in Charlotte!
Please know you are in my thoughts and my prayers. I love you very, very much.
Love,
Kate
(Letter to Grandpa, written 6/22/12)
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| June, me and Grandpa on my wedding day - August 26th, 2006 |
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| I just love this picture of Avery (6 months old) with her Great Grandpa Bricker |
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My father called me last Thursday night to tell me that he and Grandpa had a "coming to Jesus" talk that night in the hospital. Grandpa said he was ready to go to heaven. Over the last few years he had been diagnosed with a blood disorder, congestive heart failure... and more recently acute leukemia. While he was a truly a fighter, his body was just shutting down. But, what really struck me was that he was ready. Whew, it hit me like a truck. He was READY. It was unsettling to here those words, yet a huge relief swept over me. Saying goodbye isn't as difficult anymore, because my faith in eternal life is steadfast. From here on out I guess I look at it as the grand family reunion waiting for me in heaven.
I emailed the above letter to my dad last Friday at 4:18 p.m. when I realized I probably wouldn't get up to Ohio in time to see my Grandpa Bricker one last time. My dad read this letter to him late that night. The next morning when Dad called me to tell me of Grandpa's passing early Saturday morning he mentioned how ironic it was that one of Grandpa's friends brought ham & pineapple pizza to him Friday night for dinner (he ate it too - an all too appropriate last meal). As Dad sat with him on Friday night, he said Grandpa was in and out of sleep. He was "at a construction site" - asking out loud for brackets & speaking as though he was jimmying parts and pieces together. He was hard at work... must've been building his ladder to the heavens.
Grandpa was a carpenter by trade and a fixer by nature. When he'd visit our house in Charlotte in more recent years he'd stay up late fixing stuff I didn't even know needed fixing. In fact, he carried around a full tool kit just about everywhere he went. When I think of Grandpa I think of a man who enjoyed going to baseball games and singing a cappella at church. He was a family leader, yet a kid at heart. Oh, and he was pretty bossy. And really loud. When I was in high school (I was a teenage girl - need I say more?) he used to come to the house to see Dad at 7 am and they would stand around the island in the kitchen chit-chatting. From up in my room it sounded as if they were literally right beside me - I used to open the door to my room, scream "BE QUIET!!!!" dramatically and then slam the door of my room. Grandpa would only get louder, I swear. He also used to torment us when we were little with the fact that he lost a finger years before. As kids we were both terrified and intrigued. These memories make me smile.
I had to giggle when I heard that Grandpa wanted to buried in a flannel shirt and a hat. Oh, that's my grandpa. Never wanted to live by anyone else's rules. And what does it matter anyway? We're trading in our casual duds for grand robes in the sky.
I'll miss you Grandpa... I really will. But I have confidence in that family reunion in the heavens.
I'll be seeing ya...
1 comment:
God bless your grandpa. Someone said to me recently, "why is it that we celebrate birth and never death?" I gave this much thought and my conclusion was this. There are still so many people on this earth who struggle with faith. I have so much sorrow for them as I can only imagine a life without faith would be like. so many people need the concrete, tangible evidence of something such as birth. Yes, I get it. There's a baby, it's there you can touch it, real, can't dispute the evidence. But death?! Too many options. The biggest open ended question out there. But not to those with faith. It's pretty simple to us. We can see the miracles around us every single day. Life sure does suck sometimes. It's not fair, we all get to the end of our ropes, there are illnesses and diseases that plague our loved ones and it's so hard for us to understand. My faith just teaches me im not supposed to understand....yet. Yet. Faithless people say miracles don't happen, no such thing. If you have witnessed the birth of a child born into this world with a soul of their own....well if that isn't a miracle, I really have no damn clue what is. The sadness of losing our loved ones is felt by those remaining. Those who cross over, wow...their journey is just beginning. Thanks for your beautiful story of your grandpa, kate. You have inspired me to make a call to a pretty important man in the morning.
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