At the end of last week my Grandpa Andy went on hospice care.
He died at 0630 on Sunday morning.
My dad called me as we were getting ready for church to let me know.
We told the boys that Grandpa Andy had gone to Heaven. I asked them what they thought he was doing.
Deacon said he thought he was maybe exploring and getting settled in. Roman thought he was maybe "hangin' with Jesus". Noah thought he was maybe checking out the fields in Heaven.
My Grandpa was a farmer. He watched the weather, loved the land.
He fished for bull heads, and he loved popcorn.
We played a lot of Uno with him and my Grandma.
He called "Yellow", "yeller".
We went with him in his pick-up to check out the fields.
He liked to watch the Twins.
He was a "leftie" just like Deacon.
And he loved our kids.
Grandpa Andy was a hard worker and he always wanted to hear if Noah's company was busy, and if he was getting a lot of hours. He seemed pleased if Noah worked overtime.
One time Noah asked him something about "a cow". Grandpa was totally confused and it took a long time to sort out the problem. It wasn't a cow, it was a heifer.
Poor Noah. But now he knows the difference.
Grandpa wore striped overalls and a John Deere hat during the week, and on Sundays he wore a dress hat with his Sunday clothes.
Grandpa Andy lived to be 93.
He put his trust in the Lord when my dad was a boy. We know we will see him again. I am so grateful for the hope that we have and that we can pass it on to our children. Death is not the end!
(now I am off to dig up some half way decent clothes for the kids...do we have appropriate funeral wear? Probably not, but we will do our best!)