My Grandpa

(I started this some time ago but just realized I never posted it. I feel so bad. I guess better late than never...)

My (Jamie's) grandpa passed away at the beginning of September. He had been sick for quite some time, but I kept hoping for a miracle and that he would recover, but at the end he was so miserable and ready to be done it's hard to complain that he's gone. I sure miss him, but am thankful for the peace I have knowing that because Christ was resurrected we will all be resurrected one day and I will get to see him again. And, as I told my Grandma, he will even be able to hear us. :) He was in the infantry during World War II and his hearing suffered significantly. I'm thankful for the time I've had to look back on my memories with him. Here are a few of my favorite:

In 2001 I got to go to Europe for my first time with my parents and grandparents. We spent two weeks traveling and seeing the sights. One I'll never forget was in southern France. My grandpa was part of the southern invasion during World War II (most histories focus on the northern invasion at Normandy), but he was part of the southern invasion that was to distract the Germans. We got to go to Saint Raphael and found the monument to his division and the street named after him (36th Infantry Division of Texas). He told us stories of the invasion and fighting to gain control of a nearby bridge/tunnel. My mom and I walked over and an older French woman stopped us. In broken French she asked if my Grandpa was part of the invasion. When I told her yes, she responded, "Please tell him thank you." That story still brings tears to my eyes as I think of what those people suffered and how proud I am of both my grandpas that they fought in the war to free people they didn't even know.

(At the time, my mom had been learning French and was working to translate the monument into French for my Grandpa. I walked around to the other side and it was in English - she was doing a great job! :) We all had a good laugh about that.)

Our recent move to California brought us close enough to my grandparents that I was able to visit them at least once a month. I enjoyed the time with them and my son really liked getting away for the day. Once when I talked to my Grandma over the phone she told me that Grandpa had been asking when my son would come visit (I wanted to tease that he wasn't intersted in seeing me, just his great-grandson). He sure loved his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

When we first moved to California and visiting my grandparents regularly, I would enjoy the break because my Grandma would make us lunch, but as my Grandpa got sicker I started taking lunch to them. One time she wheeled my Grandpa to the table in his wheelchair and he was obviously not feeling well. My son called out in a loud voice, "Hi Grandpa!" The surprised smile on my Grandpa's face was precious! Our son has a special talent of bringing smiles to others faces.