The last few days have been challenging for my family. My Granda (grandfather), always healthy and on the go, was just diagnosed with cancer and has begun a VERY rapid decline. Because of who my grandfather is, none of us want to see him suffer for a long time but it's the first time in my own life that I've watched someone I love go from life to death so quickly. My dad's dad died when I was twelve - very unexpectedly during a routine surgery. So although that death was hard, all the grieving was post-death. We didn't have to watch him decline. That being said, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about life and what it means. My Granda's life is always one that I've wanted to emulate - it's full of adventure and love and godliness...
That being said, let me tell you a couple short stories.
The first story is one of adventure, endurance, hard work and success.
Granda was the second of four siblings born in Northern Ireland to a farming family. Although he was very smart, he had to leave school at 14 to help with the farm. By his early 20's he owned and ran his own flax mill. Also, in his early twenties he decided his life needed some adventure and change so he sold the flax mill, bought a ticket, hopped on an ocean liner and came to America. Once here, he bought a motorcycle and a farm. He was very successful and ended up with 4 farms! He worked those farms for years and years and when he "retired" he gave up the dairy cows, sold 3 of the farms and still kept on farming the fourth. I can't remember a day in my growing up life that I didn't see Granda out baling hay or fixing tractors. Even into his mid 80s he was out there throwing hay bales.
Now let me tell you a love story.
Granda had been in the US for quite a few years... working hard on the farm... enjoying the single life... when one day his cousin asked if he would give her a ride to Pennsylvania to visit one of her friends. Granda said yes and off they went. As he pulled into the house and he saw a beautiful 16 year old girl walking up the hill, pals of water in hand, handkerchief around her hair. Granda took one look at her and said "that's the girl I'm going to marry." So he met her and wooed her, and they wrote letters back and forth for 2 years until she was 18 (and he was 32) and they got married and he brought her to New York. Fifty five years, 5 children, 13 grandchildren and 1 great grandchild later, they are still very much in love. You don't see many marriages like that anymore. A few years ago they were telling us how their car was getting close to 200,000 miles so they watched the odometer and when it hit them mark they "pulled over and smooched." I think that is one of the cutest stories ever.
The third story is about godliness.
I don't have a specific story to share because Granda's life is, as a whole, a story of godliness. I remember hearing so many stories of him telling Jehovah's Witness about Jesus when they came to his door, or friends that would stop in and visit, or even the folks at McDonalds. No matter where he went, people knew him and loved. It was impossible not to. And everywhere he went people knew what the most important thing in his life was - his God and his family.
What a rich, rich family heritage I have!
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