On Saturday, March 11th, my 87 year old grandfather was hospitalized with a severe case of viral pneumonia. My family was under the impression that after medication and antibiotics he would return home (or to a nursing home) after several days in the hospital. On Wednesday, March 15th I was notified by my dad that Grandpa had taken a turn for the worse and had elected to go into hospice care. At the time I was on vacation with my mom in Tucson, Arizona, and with nothing but swimsuits and sundresses in my bag I made it onto the next flight out to Chicago to be with him.
I could fill pages and pages with stories about my grandfather, and if you’d like to hear them I promise I will write them and send them to you, but I will keep this relatively short. What is important to know is that my grandparents’ presence in my life has been loving and constant, and my grandpa was a pretty incredible person. I have grown up with one set of grandparents who have been relatively healthy throughout their 80+ years. They’ve lived in the same house on the same street in the same tiny town in Michigan for over 60 years, and I very much identify their home as my second home, and the most consistent home I’ve ever had. My family moved around a lot and I never had a home for more than a couple years at a time, but I had Grammy and Grandpa’s. When my mom got sick with a brain tumor, Grammy and Grandpa came to take care of us. Even as a teenager, when my parents got divorced and our family seemed to split into pieces I still went to stay with Grammy and Grandpa. And from the moment I read that awful message in Tucson to the moment my plane landed in Chicago I could not stop crying. The tears would cease for a few minutes at a time as I attempted to distract myself with podcasts or music or magazines. But sorrow and suffering were never far away and would flood back to me before I could dig out enough tissues to wipe away the tears.
Before this year I’ve never lost anyone I’ve been close to and for that I am incredibly grateful. This first loss was so new to me, and so painful, and so surreal. The knowledge that things at Grammy and Grandpa’s would never be the same was beyond my comprehension and I’m still not used to it. As I held his hand in the hospital, waiting for any sign of life or movement of his eyes in between his shallow breaths I knew I needed God’s words and peace more than I ever have. My grandfather was a Christian, and through the days and nights spent at his side and the hospital, through the funeral and now on, I don’t know how I would have coped had he not known Jesus. Over the few days I spent with him in the hospital I read more of God’s word than I ever have. We know as Christians that we do not suffer in vein and it is not without purpose. During mine and Grandpa’s suffering I was begging God to remind me of the unimaginable paradise God has for us in heaven, and the promises he has made to his people.
After four days in hospice care, surrounded by his loved ones and his eldest granddaughters holding his hands, Grandpa left our hands for those of Jesus.
I’m grieving from this great loss of someone so integral to my earliest and fondest memories, to this man who valued family, the lord, and helping others. But I am so thankful that God gave me the opportunity to be with him until the very end. For me to pray with him, over him, and for him in the presence of family members who do not yet know Jesus. For the chance to read and reread scripture assuring myself, him and my family that Grandpa was going to leave this world of suffering and momentary happiness for a glorious paradise we cannot yet comprehend. My sister accepted Jesus into her heart over my grandfather’s deathbed, and I know he is still celebrating that with the Father and Son up in heaven.
As I stood over his casket and gave testimony to the man he was to me, his family and his community, I was comforted by the greatest of all comforts, Jesus. Because of Jesus we do not grieve like those who have no hope, for this life is short and full of sorrow, and the moment we leave it God wipes away every tear and we get to spend eternity with He who created us out of love. As Christians we have a hope to look forward to in death, to leave this broken world to be with God in his perfection and glory and happiness for all eternity, together. That hope is getting me through the grief, though it still stings and washes over me when I least expect it. But the hope is not broken, and it is strengthening my call to be a missionary. To know that there are people in this world who do not have that hope, who grieve for lost souls and bodies and loved ones, who have lost and will lose those who mean the most to them. That Jesus came here so that they might live eternally with him if they just believe, and that he has called his followers to spread that message. I am honored to be a messenger of this good news and to show those without hope that there will be a day when suffering ceases, and there will be no more death, or mourning, or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.
