Goodbye (for now)

My grandfather is nearing the end of his life on this hot August night. My mom and her sister are keeping endless vigil and have been for two days. I'm relieved for him. He has been miserable for so long. One of the best "talkers" I know silenced by a stroke; an Oregon timber faller unable to walk. At the same time, it hit me yesterday that when I married six years ago I had four living grandparents. After this week, I will have one grandma left. For my parents, that means three parents have died in less than four years.

My brother emailed this to my mom to be read to my grandfather today. It is a beautiful tribute to my Opa and I share it here because I know some of you know and love him. And because I think that things like this point some of us in the right direction as to how to live our own lives so many will weep at our funerals because our life made such a difference in theirs.

Dear Opa,

I’m in California and I wish I wasn’t. There are some things best said in person. But since I can’t be there now, I wanted to thank you for what you’ve done for me.

One of the things I wanted to thank you for is your prayers. “Our Gracious Heavenly Father.. . .” from your mouth was sincere, earnest, and made me believe for a fact that God was hearing your words. As I grew older and had my doubts, you were one of the people in my life who’s faith bolstered mine. Sometimes life throws curve balls, but I always knew that the strike zone would never move. “God sent His Son. . ..” and even in times of personal darkness, I knew that the light my Opa believed in was real, and that God had me in the hollow of His hand.

The way you loved Oma was amazing. You showed it through your actions. You showed it through your words. In this world commitment and unselfish love are rarely seen. Divorce is bad enough. But the more subtle signs of selfishness like losing patience, forcing your will on someone else for your own comfort, or just failing to look for signs that your loved ones need your attention, are all over. You loved Oma even when she was being difficult. I don’t remember you ever criticizing Oma in front of me. All I remember was your patience and happiness in serving her.

Thank you for that example. Even though I love the bachelor life (that you’ve encouraged me to live to the fullest), if I find a girl someday I hope I’m half the man that you were about it. You did things right. Lesser people would have been worn down by the grind of everyday living and lost their patience. True love never fails and Oma was blessed to share her life with you.

I love the way you take interest in people. I can’t remember going on a trip to the store, or the park, or a restaurant without you striking up a conversation with someone. You cared about them as people, took and interest in their lives, experiences, and beliefs, and gleaned what knowledge you could from to share with someone else someday. That’s how life should be.

Back to those prayers. You always prayed for me (and us other grandchildren). You would talk to me about my goals and dreams. I always knew that you took pride in my accomplishments – not because they were of such value – but because you knew how much they meant to me.

I will miss that. I always felt good knowing that I had your support. I knew that you cared about my dreams. I am hoping that somehow God will let you know that your grandson is still carrying on down below.

As a student of American history, you used to bring up some interesting tidbits about foremost American families like the Rockefeller’s or Carnegie’s. Over the last hundred years, those families managed to pass a lot of money and power to successive generations. But a good spiritual heritage, kept commitments, and love for your family is the best inheritance that you could give. And I am so grateful that you passed that along to me.

You have run the race. You have finished the course. I am very proud of you. And I love you very much.

Your grandson,


Mark