For death is no more than a turning of us over
from time to eternity.
My Grandfather passed around midnight. I cried as I kissed his cheek a final time and watched through puffy, water-logged eyes as the funeral home loaded him into the hearse.
I miss him already.
The thing about death... it's so simple yet so incomplete. It's like peering into a dark tunnel you can't see the end of. We think we have an idea of what's on the other end, but really, who can see for sure? Christians - those who profess faith in Jesus Christ as the Messiah - believe that "to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord". You die, you fly, in other words. We stake our current situations and our very lives, even, on the blessed hope that another world awaits beyond the grave... a world that promises no pain, no tears.
I don't have all the answers, and I'll admit that sometimes it all sounds a bit far-fetched and idealistic to these human ears. Yet I believe it all the same. Where is my Grandfather right now? He's in heaven. Maybe it's even dinner time there. Maybe he's feasting on chicken and mashed potatoes and cornbread and lemon icebox pie. Maybe it's the best day he's ever known. Maybe exchanging time for eternity is the greatest and sweetest thing for which we can ever hope...
I miss you, Grandad, and rejoice that you're no longer in pain. You were the best grandfather a girl could have asked for, and I'll always remember the laughs, life, and love we shared. If you run into Jesus up there, give Him a message, would you? Tell him I can't wait to see His face. And know that I can't wait to see yours again, too. All my love, BB.