Finally After Christmas

Many of you who know me and read my ramblings know that December 14th my Grandpa George went home to be with the Lord. Although he was sick, his departure was far too quick for any of us and there is not a day that goes by that I don't miss him. I haven't even been able to write about it until now for fear that I wouldn't do the profound effect he's had on my life justice. So finally, after Christmas, I am able to sit in silence for a few minutes and think out what my Grandpa has meant to me.

Although there are several who probably have much more of a right to be mourning Grandpa right now, I can't help but be amazed at how deeply this has affected me and I need to talk about it. I suppose I'm one of those people who's kind of hard to get along with, a little stubborn, sassy, strong-willed, etc. I speak my mind and when I have an opinion, you mostly know about it. Grandpa always appreciated these things about me, and even though we would spar from time to time and I would get after him about some things, he seemed to like me all the better for it.

Grandpa was the kind of person who just was who he was, there was no need to guess. If he didn't like the way you put his dishes away, he'd growl at you and let you know it. I loved that. He was also someone I could always count on to tell me he loved me and that he was proud of me. I'm not sure why, but he told me. He told me a lot about his years growing up in the hills of Virginia, always with a joke and a laugh. He didn't grow up with a lot, but he enjoyed what he had and he loved life. He seemed to have a knack for getting into trouble, but was always willing to give anyone the shirt off his back.

My favorite picture of the two of us is at my wedding. Although there was so much going on, he still hugged me tight and told me how beautiful I was and how proud he was. Nothing can replace that kind of tangible, unconditional love.

I spent as many hours with him as I could when he was sick, sometimes just laying my head against his hospital bed or recliner and watching TV with him, but he always let me hold his big rugged hand and just be. He didn't need to talk, and neither did I, though we did do a lot of laughing when we watched Jeff Foxworthy one night in hospital with my mom. He was on oxygen and could hardly get a gasp of air, but he was laughing till he shook and we were loving it.

I am so thankful to have had him in my life, and I'm sure there are many who can say the same. There are many who he took care to make feel special. I was blessed to be one of those. To him, I can only say "Thank You, I love you big Grandpa, and I'll see you on the flip side. Say 'hi' to John Wayne for me."