It's been a while. I need to decide if blogging is something I want to make a regular habit. It has been an overall good exercise for me. I just have not made it a priority of late.
My grandpa died on Veteran's Day. His death was something we were somewhat prepared for. As prepared as you can be with 6 days' notice. In the blink of an eye your life can change. His life ended. Just like that. At 78 years old, my grandpa had lived a long, hard, full life. He struggled so much, in many aspects. I like to think that death brought him peace that he hadn't known in a long, long time.
Honestly, those of us who loved him and knew him so well, understood that he would keep going - to work that is - until he was physically unable to continue. That is exactly what happened. He kept going, until he couldn't. Hard work. He worked so hard. Mostly because that was who he was - a hard worker. Partly because if he didn't work - he wouldn't know what to do with himself. Partly because he could not afford to stop working. Daily he was in pain. Daily he went to work. I had the absolute honor to be by his side for not only his final 6 days, but his final hours, minutes, seconds, and his last breath. What peace filled that room as my precious grandpa passed on to be with Jesus. With tears rolling down my face I smiled. He was at peace. He was with Jesus. He was with his bride. I really, really miss him, and will continue to as years go by, but it was his time. I know it. In his final moments, I decided to turn on some of his favorite tunes. George Jones played, a few other country singers, and then Johnny Cash - "Ghost Riders in the Sky." I guess he didn't care for Johnny Cash because as that song came on, he started to go. It was so surreal. So slow yet so fast. Indescribable. To be with someone during their final moments - what a blessing.
I cannot even begin to describe the impact this man had on
so many lives. Each of you has a personal story of how my grandpa impacted you.
To you he may have been dad, grandpa, brother, uncle, friend, or just "Mr.
Bob." Whomever he was to you, I think we can all agree on one thing that
made this man so special. It was his heart. So many people have reached out to
our family to speak about what he meant to them. The comments about his
generosity, his kindness, his friendliness...it all boils down to his heart. He
was not glamorous, not fussy, but is someone that people respected. He was
someone special to a lot of folks. That I know for sure and you all know it
too.
So, who was he to us? My grandpa was one of a kind. They truly don't make men like him anymore. He influenced my life in more ways than one. The pictures of him in my head obviously have evolved over the years. In my younger days, I remember he and my grandma always having such a good time together. Whether at home, at the store, at the lake, or anywhere else in between - he was having a good time and oftentimes the life of the party. He gave me my first job around age 10 or 11. I would work at the meat market cash register every Saturday. As I grew older, I would work down there every day during the summer. He taught me how to count change, organize the stock, and how to treat customers. Good work ethic - a phrase that doesn't even begin to describe him - he taught us all that. As time went by he was a constant in my life. Seeing and visiting him recharged me. After my baby girls were born, visiting him as often as possible was a necessity for me. His family recharged him. One of his favorite things to do was to gather together as a family and enjoy a meal together. He'd often be sad to see us go.
So, who was he to us? My grandpa was one of a kind. They truly don't make men like him anymore. He influenced my life in more ways than one. The pictures of him in my head obviously have evolved over the years. In my younger days, I remember he and my grandma always having such a good time together. Whether at home, at the store, at the lake, or anywhere else in between - he was having a good time and oftentimes the life of the party. He gave me my first job around age 10 or 11. I would work at the meat market cash register every Saturday. As I grew older, I would work down there every day during the summer. He taught me how to count change, organize the stock, and how to treat customers. Good work ethic - a phrase that doesn't even begin to describe him - he taught us all that. As time went by he was a constant in my life. Seeing and visiting him recharged me. After my baby girls were born, visiting him as often as possible was a necessity for me. His family recharged him. One of his favorite things to do was to gather together as a family and enjoy a meal together. He'd often be sad to see us go.
We are most definitely incredibly sad to see him go. But, as
those of us who know him so well understood - when he was ready to go, he was
on his way to the door with his hat and coat on before you could even protest.
He must have been ready to go. We weren't ready but he sure was. I know I can
speak for each member of my family when I say, there truly will never be
another man quite like Bob Whittenberg. Thank you so much for joining us as we
honor and remember the most kind, generous, hard-working, loving man we know.
I did not do him justice. I could have spoken for hours on end and not done him justice. I did what I could at the time and held myself together surprisingly well.
I have grown so much over the past 18 months. I now look for ways I can learn from most every situation in my life. What can I learn from my grandpa's passing? Here are a couple of thoughts:
- Hard work. Nothing beats it. Out work everyone around you and you will stand out. Not only as a great employee but someone who deserves respect.
- Family. This part is interesting. Of course family is important. I have family members who intentionally choose to not have anything to do with their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I don't understand that. I never will. My grandpa was not like that. Family was important. He was so quiet about the love he had for his family but it was there and we felt it. He so enjoyed the company of loved ones. My family has it's share of drama but they're mine and it's our drama. I'll take the good with the bad and work to make sure we have more good days than bad. I'm grabbing hold of the memories and working to create new ones. How do we move forward with our lives while continuing to honor the memories of those who have gone before us?
- Planning. The death of a loved one does something to your brain. It starts making you think about your own mortality. Something that is frequently on my mind is "What would happen to my immediate family, financially, if something happened to me?" Would they survive? Would my husband be able to pick up where I left off and ensure that my babies have the wonderfully comfortable future that we have planned for them? It scares me to death thinking of not being here for any part of their future. If I learned anything, I need to plan more effectively. Especially from a financial perspective.
My goal is to become better. I am in a constant state of looking for ways to improve. How do I become a better follower of Christ, a better wife, a more patient and loving mother, a more effective employee, a more understanding daughter, a better friend, a better person? Purpose. Intentional focus. That's the first step. Decide to do better and then be better. The person I am one year from today should be a better version of the person I am today. How do I do that? How will you do that? How do you intentionally focus on becoming a better person each day?
Today I am focusing on life. Humbled by death. In search of peace. I'm not there yet but I'll get there. I know I will.
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