Julie's grandfather

The death sentence we are under, sometimes seems heavy.

This evening as we gathered at Grandma's in the aftermath of Grandpa's death yesterday, Grandma was talking about their conversations together concerning dying.

I guess Grandpa had a tough couple of weeks lately. The last couple of days were especially bad, with pain in his feet increasing to the point where he was inquiring about having his legs amputated. And he had to wear a Depends undergarment for the past few days, and that kind of thing. Not fun stuff, getting old.

And so she told us tonight that they had discussed dying, and that he felt like he didn't want it to be very long if the pain he was in would continue. And she talked about not knowing when her time would be either, and wondered which one would go first. He wanted it to be him who would die first. It was.

This death sentence we are under is a horrible thing. I have to keep reminding myself that it is really God's invention to get us our of a corrupt and hurtful world, and into a warm and wonderful after life. Sometimes it seems like a sinister monster.

And I know this; it is a wonderful gift when a grandparent has made preparations for his family, letting them know that he puts his trust in Christ for salvation, and prepared himself for eternity. I have performed plenty of funerals where family members are left grasping at any little hope that their loved one would be in Heaven. It is such a painful place for everyone when that occurs.

But Grandpa was very clear that His faith was in Christ. I'll see him again.

I loved the old guy so much. He was so accepting of me, so much of a fan of my little life. I felt deeply loved and cared about by him and Grandma, and always looked forward to the time I could spend with them at Easter, Christmas, and other special family times at their home. he told me last year that from watching me on TV, I was okay. He said sometimes I actually kept his interest!

I loved his strong opinions, even when I deeply disagreed with him. Like last Christmas when we argued about who would be the next President. He was a Barrack Obama fan, of which I am very much NOT! Grandma told us to knock it off. I did. Grandpa didn't. He had a lot of (wrong things, I thought) to say about the subject. And my brilliant arguments didn't seem to dissuade him, much to my frustration. We got pretty loud (for the Myer house) before Grandma stepped in. In Stoltzfoos argument terms, however, it was strictly amateur noise levels. Grandma wouldn't like a Stoltzfoos family argument, I don't think.

Nevertheless, I loved him, even for the fact that he chose to get into it with me. It was fun, (debating a wrong person!). I wish I could joke with him that I am a little bit glad that Obama has one less vote now! He would laugh hard about that.

I even had a joke I wanted to tell him tonight. He often asked me if I had any jokes to tell him. He would listen to my jokes and laugh hard, then tell me two or three of his own, warning me that I couldn't use some of them in the pulpit.

I never had any grandparents, until I met Julie, and was adopted by hers. I appreciate them so much for that. Her family is a superb group of really fine folks that I admire and appreciate deeply. Grandpa could be very proud of his family, I think.


When I become a Grandpa, I want to be just like him. Except for the bad political ideas of course.