An Unforgettable Memory

            *Ring* *Ring* "Lloyd's Electric, Lloyd here."  As I look back on the years since he passed away, I picture him by the gray desk that he so often occupied when he wasn't on a service call.   The desk is covered with papers and phone numbers, beckoning for someone to sort through all the bills and checks.  As he works diligently, scribbling down messages and notes, his work is interrupted by an anxious customer, desiring his assistance.  When he picks up the phone, he answers with his unforgettable greeting, anticipating their request.  His voice low and rough, yet friendly, he assures them that he will be with them as quickly as possible.  He grabs his jacket and heads for the big truck, set out to do the job that he does best.

            I sit in his big chair behind the desk with a book in my hand.  When I glance around, I take in the peace that fills the room and remember the man who slipped away from me like sand through my fingers.  As I think of that dreadful day, quiet teardrops begin to make their way down my cheeks, hitting his desk with a small splatter; wondering why that day had to happen at all.  The time passes slowly and I remember the shock that absorbed my body.            

            It was a cool day in October, the slight breeze rustling the leaves.  The trees were preparing for winter, sending a warm and friendly goodbye with their radiant and bright colors.  As my sisters and I enjoyed our day at what seemed like our second home, Dad walked in and brought us into the office.  We wondered what was going on as he left us for a brief moment only to return after a few minutes with a sorrowful expression and bloodshot eyes.  The words that spilled out of his mouth left us with the feeling that we were in a nightmare.  He told us what had happened; everyone stood still, not knowing what to say or do.  As reality set in, Whitney took a seat on Dad's lap, crying in his arms as she realized what was going on.  

"But he was going to take us fishing, Dad."           

His reply assured me that he would take me fishing someday.  I know that it wasn't important, but it seemed so at the time.  I probably felt the need to say something to lighten the mood, but nothing was going to lift anyone’s spirits anytime soon.  It took me a while to fully grasp the realness of the situation, but as the pastor came and relatives filed in, what used to be a blur became very clear- Grandpa was gone and wasn’t going to come back. 

            Over the next few days, I slowly began to put my life together again, following my regular routine.  This time, however, there was a piece of me that was missing and I knew I wasn’t going to find it.  The very last time I got to see him was at the funeral and as I looked at his lifeless body, I wanted so desperately to ask him, “Why did you have to go?” 

I longed to tell him that I loved him, but I knew that I wouldn’t get any response.  After the service, I sat under a small tent on a steel chair.  My sisters and I took our turns picking out a flower from his casket and received a purple ribbon with the word “Grandpa” on it.  It was as if we were able to have something that served as a remembrance of him; something we could take before he was finally lowered into the ground.  But like all flowers, my precious rose didn’t live forever.  It eventually wilted and died, leaving me with only memories.

            Though I know he is no longer present with me, the memory of his love and compassion remains imprinted on my heart forever.  He has impacted me greatly; his kindness and gentleness reminds me to love my neighbors and put others first.  Though I desperately wish that he was with me right now, I can't help but wonder what my life would be like if Grandpa had never even stepped foot in it.  I learned that you can, in fact, influence those around you by your words and actions.  Today, a little over seven years since Grandpa’s death, I still have people telling me of what a great man he was- brave, generous, loving, kind, and many other things.  He has taught me so much even though he was only with me for a short period of my life.

            So as I sit here in his chair, I wipe away my tears and pray for a change of heart; a heart that will impact the world like my Grandpa did.  I get up and head out the door, flicking the lights out as I go.  I walk to the car and take a seat next to my Grandma.  As I glance her way, I begin to admire her for the way she handled his passing.  She knew that her husband was in a better place and stayed strong in her faith.  While driving on the gravel road, I pray for the same strength that she has, the strength to move on and remain thankful to God. 

The car slows as we reach our destination.  I grab my flowers and head up the hill to his final resting place.  Laying down the flowers and holding back the tears, I tell him that I love him.  The wind blows through my hair as I sit and reminisce about his memory.  It’s time to go and I leave the cemetery, realizing just how much he changed my life.  Finally I smile, knowing that he is in the right place and that when I get to heaven, I will get to see his face once again.