A walking cane and a place to go.

Old man, hospital bed. The room is filled with people he loves. And he whispers, "Don't cry for me. I'll see you all someday." He looks up and says, "I can see God's face. This is my temporary home."

I wasn't there in my grandfather's final days, but I do remember my last moments with him. He was laying on his couch, very ill and hardly able to walk. He had his feet propped under pillows to reduce the swelling. He lay peacefully, but I know he was in a lot of pain and I know He was ready to meet Jesus on that golden shore. My grandmother rubbed her wrists from how sore they had become from lifting him. As we sat and visited, we tried to keep the conversation light but we knew what lay beneath the surface of meaningless chit chat. Death. My grandfather was one month away from leaving this life. He lay on the couch, pretending to sleep and when one of us casually asked if he was sleeping, he smiled and said, "I hear you". He said, "I was just riding on a motorcycle in the wind." I'm glad that is where his mind had taken him. I'm sure that was exactly where he wanted to be in that moment and I'm glad he had peace. There are a lot of things I am not sure of as I pass through this life, but one thing I am so glad to be sure of is that he is with Jesus right now. After all, where else would he be? He knew that's where he was going because years before when he died on an operating table, he saw... and he begged to go home and not return to earth. But see, it wasn't his time yet. He had a taste of Heaven that day and he wanted to stay. Wouldn't we all want to stay if we had that taste? How does one live, with no hope for tomorrow? I will spend my entire life questioning people who do not believe in Christ and in Heaven, "what if you're wrong!"

Why not? The only thing you have to lose is sadness, loneliness and fear. The ONLY thing you can gain is joy, happiness, hope and love. I don't think I'll ever stop asking, "why not?"

My grandfather knew what he believed. He knew what he saw. But what's more, he believed before he saw and blessed are those who believe and have not seen.

I kissed him on the cheek and left their house. One month later, on the morning of my birthday, a train crashed into my chest when I answered the phone to hear the news that he had passed in his sleep. I hope that is the only birthday that I spend travelling 6 hours to attend a funeral.

When I see an old man with a white military buzz cut, wearing a cardigan and Dickie's pants, I think of him and smile. The hats he would wear, the jokes he'd tell about his belly becoming so big he might pop a button, blowing up his cheek for me to kiss, his walking cane, the way he spoke in abbreviations, when he and my grandmother walked to my house every single week of my entire life, the way he savored every bite of food and held his pinkie out like a sophisticated aristocrat, his love for strange food combinations that made my grandmother cringe, the things he collected, his obsession with medical information, his love for reading anything, his quiet laugh, his pride...

I wish I could introduce our son to my grandfather and see that look of pride on his face once more. I can't help but imagine God parting the clouds and calling him over to see his first great-grandchild. I believe in that and that makes me smile.