Grandpa
Yesterday my Grandpa passed away. At nearly a century and one year, he was my last living grandparent. While death is a normal part of life and a century of life surpasses every expectation of longevity, I feel this one the most perhaps. He was one of my last tethers to the wholeness of my family and childhood, he was an anchor point of familiarity, passing in the only home I knew him in, where nothing ever changed: the same curtains, the same creaky sound of the red wood stairs I ran up a thousand times to get into the house and the same sound of the screen door slamming closed. While my grandma was living it was tombstone pizza and pepsi when we got in late or spaghetti or fried chicken on Sunday. The closets filled with the same clothes, the same bed spreads, the grates in the hallway down to the basement I used to press my face against and yell at my cousins. The same surprising lack of toys that never left us bored. It's the same muffin cup artwork taped to the kitchen wall and the same flower boarder my mom helped stencil on the wall when I was little. Everything was the same and that sameness felt wonderfully safe to me.
What is it about familiarity, that is like the comfort of a warm blanket on a cold day? Why does my heart long for it? Adventure is great, but places that are safe, where the heart experiences love are better. As the days go by, the world seems to be changing so quickly and recklessly in unprecedented and unsettling ways. As it does, I notice a swell in my heart, a longing for all things old and familiar, when the world made more sense. I believe the longing for safety and love are seeds God plants in our hearts, seeds of longing. As C.S. Lewis said,
“These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.”
The familiarity, the love, the safety I experience are shadows of my forever home and my forever family. When I see Jesus face to face, everything will be new and familiar at the same time. I will be perfectly loved, perfectly safe, perfectly seen. Today, I am thankful for the shadows, like bread crumbs, that leave a trail marking my longings for my forever home. Thank you Grandpa for being a shadow that I loved. Next time I see you will be in the presence of Jesus.
June 30, 2023