Another sunny morning finds us safely back home, enjoying the lazy days of summer with long trips to the pool, lemonade, and a rock collection on the stairs of the garage that trips us up as we enter the house.
Lilly created this masterpiece with rocks from the front "landscaping" and declared that we can't move it until Easter because the stones symbolize Jesus' empty tomb.
Right.
For those of you wondering, we just returned from Ohio after the funeral of Brad's precious grandpa. Although it was incredibly sad to realize he is no longer living on earth, there was lots of rejoicing at a life enjoyed to the fullest, brimming with love, joy, humor, and Christ-likeness.
We were humbled at thinking about what a legacy of character Grandpa leaves for his many children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. His love for the Lord and family was evident in everything he did.
One time I asked Grandpa which he preferred: being a father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. And you know what he said?
He loved being a great-grandpa and seeing the joy of his kids and grandkids as those little "greats" ran around all wild and crazy. His happiness multiplied when those around him were happy and blessed. Just amazing.
Thankfully, Jackson and Lilly have been shielded from dealings with death thus far. In fact, I soon realized that they'd never even seen a cemetery before this trip.
Rural America is crowded with cemeteries of all shapes and sizes, but somehow our corner of suburbia has NONE.
Brad and I even googled cemeteries in our area to confirm this fact and the closest one is about 10 miles away and a few towns over. Crazy, eh?
When we drove by one (of several) in Ohio, the kids were all, "What are all those signs for in the grass?!"
Oh boy.
So I did my best to explain all the mechanics of death's proceedings: funerals, burials, cemeteries, visitations, etc.
However, I quickly learned that all of my lengthy and detailed explanations fell on deaf ears.
This was evidenced during the visitation at the funeral home.
Lilly saddled up in a chair right next to the casket, looked around for a few minutes, and came back over to whisper something in my ear.
"Mom?"
"What?"
"Why is Grandpa taking a nap in that cute little bed?"
Have mercy.
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1 comments:
We have wondered the same thing... how can there be no (or so few) cemeteries in Colorado?
I am from Ohio, so I am all too familiar with the multitudes of cemeteries on hillsides and plains. But Colorado? I think I've seen one. Ever.
What are they doing with all these people as they die here?
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