My Dear Son,
You are almost a year old. You’re almost walking, and at times I think you get frustrated when I don’t understand what exactly you are trying to tell me as you get so close to forming words. But our joy lately has been dampened. Two weeks ago, your grandfather died. He had been diagnosed with extremely aggressive stage 4 colon cancer on April 28 of this year. Your mother will doubtless tell you more about him than I will. She knows all the stories, and she
loved Loves him very deeply.
For my part, I can only wish you had received the opportunity to get to know him as well as I did. He
loved Loves you dearly. Your mother said just the other day that he was a wonderful Dad, but he really came alive when he became a Granddad. We have a handful of pictures of the two of you, but those don’t seem, to really do justice.
You may wonder what manner of man was your grandfather. Well let me say that … It isn’t enough for me to say that he was a good man.
February 18, 1996 was a bad day for me. I remember only a few things about it, but I can recall with vivid detail the moment I swore I would never cry again. It’s a promise I’ve kept until now. For 16 years I have hardened my heart and this man softened me. He influenced my life and loved me as his own son, while Abuela and Abuelo were living overseas. Even when they were stateside your grandfather loved me like a son. And I loved him like a Dad.
More than anything else, more than any other accomplishment of his of which I am aware, three things stand out:
- He loved Jesus.
- He loved people.
- And he made me cry for the first time in 16 years.
As time passes we will learn things from these events – perhaps The Lord will even grant me some special revelation of the Kingdom – but for now I don’t want to learn. I am stuck wishing that you had received the opportunity to get to know this man better.
With much Love,