My grandpa died tonight. He was, to use a biblical description, old and full of days.
Far from being a sorrowful experience, his death is an occasion of joy for his family and friends. Pawpaw had for a long time been ready to go on home to heaven. Over the last few years, his health had deteriorated considerably. He lived in a nursing home. He couldn’t hear hardly at all, so it was difficult to talk to him. His eyesight was bad, so he couldn’t read (something he loved to do). You could tell by being around him that his life wasn’t very happy or very pleasant.
A few days ago, my mom told me that he didn’t have much time left. He was almost in a coma and his blood pressure had been dropping steadily. Early Wednesday morning, he simply passed from this life into the next, peacefully and painlessly, with four of his children and other family members gathered around him. For that, I am indeed grateful to God for the mercy He showed to Pawpaw.
I didn’t have any biological connections to the man, but he was still my Pawpaw nonetheless. My mom’s biological father was a sailor who died in World War II while her mother was pregnant with her. My mom was still a little girl when her mother married Pawpaw. He was the only dad my mom ever knew, and he was a good one — always treating her as if she were his very own.
Pawpaw was a farmer. A simple man, really — but one who had a robust faith in Jesus Christ and the saving power of God. A few years ago I was ordained as a deacon. I don’t remember much about the service, but the one thing I do remember — and always will — was the “laying on of hands” part, especially when it was Pawpaw’s turn to pray over me. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was for me to carry the same title of “deacon” as Pawpaw did. I’m not in his league of holiness and faithfulness, and probably never will be.
My relationship with Pawpaw hasn’t been the same in recent years as it used to be. I moved away and saw him infrequently. When I did, conversations were short and superficial. But I am glad that my children got to know him, at least a little bit. That is yet another kindness from God.
About 12:30 Wednesday morning, my mom and her brothers heard only silence in Pawpaw’s room at the nursing home as he breathed his last. Pawpaw, however, heard something drastically different — a hearty “Well done!” from the Savior he has served so faithfully.