And Everything is Strange

It's strange being in this house. It's strange lying here in the dark and looking at the familiarity of it all. It's strange being in my grandpa's home without my grandpa. In fact, I don't think I've ever been in this house when he wasn't here. It smells like him. It smells like home. But he isn't here. And he never will be again. Because he is home. And everything is strange. 


Right about now I would hear him snoring. It would be loud and obnoxious and I would turn my music up to try to drown it out. But it's so quiet. And I hate it. This house just isn't right without him here. Because everything here is the same. The ticking clock, the portrait of my great great great grandfather, the rocking chair- it's all as it has always been. 

But the quiet. The quiet is what's different because a part of this ongoing memory is now missing. And it tugs on my heart in an uncomfortable way. It makes me sad. Because it can never be as it was. I will never hear him snore. I will never see him walk through the door in his overalls and plaid shirt and baseball cap. I will never again be asked "Lulu, do you know that today's grandpas birthday?" And I will never respond "Grandpa, apparently it's your birthday every time I visit. You have got to be SO old by now. "

He named me Lulu. Everybody knows me as that here. Because of him. And the man that gave me my name, that loved me more than I deserved, that smells like this house is gone. And that hurts so much.

But I'm glad. I'm joyful. Because he suffered for too long and he is in paradise now. He is with Jesus and he is at peace. I wonder what they talk about. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he's told Jesus about us, about me and how he named me Lulu. I wonder if he's told him about how we would come in the summer and pick raspberries or about the time he gave Sawyer a Red Ryder BB gun. Maybe he told him about the time we went fishing and I was too scared to take my catch off the hook so he had too. I wonder if he's told him about the time he made me so angry and I refused to talk to him until he apologized and then, to the shock of everyone, he did. I wonder if he's told him about how I wanted him to dance with me at my wedding. I wonder if he's chuckling about how he got out of it.

I miss him. I will always miss him. I know that the next while will be filled with many tears. But I know this separation isn't forever. One day I will sit on his lap again and I will stubbornly say something sarcastic and he will call me Lulu again. One day, I will be able to tell him I love him. And I will hold onto that hope.

Today, my grandpa will be buried in the earth. Today we will have to let go a little bit more. Today life stops for a moment as we say goodbye to a man who has been there always. Before he died, I went to see him. It was hands down, the most difficult thing I have ever had to do. I had to say goodbye. And so did he. The last thing he said to me was that he loved me and it would be alright. I held his hand for hours, not wanting to let go.

Today, we emotionally will give him to the Father, though I know he is already with Him. Today, his life will be celebrated. And I will remember with joy all that he is to me. I will miss his laugh and his stubbornness and his repetitive jokes. I will miss his cocky smile and our banter and his obnoxious snoring. I will miss him calling me Lulu. I will miss his love. I will miss him. I want him here, but I'm a selfish girl. He is with Jesus. And that is a gift beyond imagining. That is enough to quiet and comfort my heart.

Grandpa. I love you. Present tense. I always will. I'll see you soon. Don't leave my heart.
Love Lulu