The following notes summarize what I shared at the graveside service yesterday:
When I reflect on the past four months, the words that come to mind are redemption, grace and mercy.
My connection with James in these past months has been a true example of the love that I’ve learned about since attending Sunday school as a little girl…the love that God has for us even though we are totally unworthy or devoid of anything to offer in return. And yet, He still loves each of us.
Of course, one could minimize the validity of the relationship and say that he had Alzheimer’s and didn’t know the difference. While he may not have known me as his granddaughter, he knew me nonetheless.
****
For me, James’ death is different than the typical grief of losing a loved one. Selfishly, I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to the grandfather I embraced just 4m ago. As for Preston-My heart pains for Preston and his absence here today, for the circumstances surrounding this tragic situation. And Etta, I can almost feel the sting of the heartache she is experiencing. Because I love her so much, I feel that pain too.
****
My only regret is for those who didn’t know the James that I did. I’ve tried to capture little vignettes in my journal and through photographs- in part to share with you and in part to preserve for myself.
I’d like to tell you a little about the James I knew these past 4 months…
He always had a smile on his face and maintained a wonderful sense of humor.
If he got upset, he could be quickly comforted.
Every time I entered the room, James would always reach out to squeeze my hands and greeting me with, “well, there’s my pretty girl.”
We enjoyed cookies and chocolate together every visit, yes, every visit as I quickly learned that I couldn’t come in the room without a treat!
We looked at old and new photographs regularly. Roger, whenever he saw your picture and your name escaped his memory, you were affectionately known as the “Ol catbird!”
James let me shave his face, change his clothes, brush his hair, cut up his food, walk with him, tuck him in, and sometimes I would just at the edge of his bed and hold his hand.
He was very protective of and concerned about Etta. He regularly complemented her and always addressed her as “honey”.
If his meal arrived before hers, he would offer to share.
Sure, there were some challenging and confusing moments, but overall, once stabilized, James truly was a picture of peace, contentment, and humility.
I can’t recall a visit that didn’t include a kiss, an exchange of laughter, or some confirmation that waiting 35 years to know him as a grandfather was far better than never at all.
****
James reportedly spoke in his sleep about forgiveness the nights preceding his death. Days prior, He asked me if he could go to Sunday school. The morning of his passing, I heard him tell Etta how pretty she was and that he loved her. And when I greeted him that final day, instead of squeezing my hands and letting go, he held onto them and told me “I sure do love you.”
His nurse, Nakea, told me that hours before his passing, he told her that he would die today. I’m told he said it with confidence and peace- as if to just inform her of what none of us knew. After getting him dressed, he thanked Nikea and blew her a kiss.
****
In closing, I’d like to share part of the msg I wrote on the 2x4 studs of 1926 the day the house was sold. These are the lessons James and Etta have inscribed on my heart ...
Choose love.
Forgive even though you can’t forget.
Be sure to laugh.
Take time to listen.Look beyond fault and find favor.
Cherish family.
Relish in the simplest of pleasures.Welcome each day as an opportunity to determine your legacy.
Knowing James has certainly made a significant impact on my life.
I’m grateful to have known him...
Though bittersweet as it's been…
When I reflect on the past four months, the words that come to mind are redemption, grace and mercy.
My connection with James in these past months has been a true example of the love that I’ve learned about since attending Sunday school as a little girl…the love that God has for us even though we are totally unworthy or devoid of anything to offer in return. And yet, He still loves each of us.
Of course, one could minimize the validity of the relationship and say that he had Alzheimer’s and didn’t know the difference. While he may not have known me as his granddaughter, he knew me nonetheless.
****
For me, James’ death is different than the typical grief of losing a loved one. Selfishly, I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to the grandfather I embraced just 4m ago. As for Preston-My heart pains for Preston and his absence here today, for the circumstances surrounding this tragic situation. And Etta, I can almost feel the sting of the heartache she is experiencing. Because I love her so much, I feel that pain too.
****
My only regret is for those who didn’t know the James that I did. I’ve tried to capture little vignettes in my journal and through photographs- in part to share with you and in part to preserve for myself.
I’d like to tell you a little about the James I knew these past 4 months…
He always had a smile on his face and maintained a wonderful sense of humor.
If he got upset, he could be quickly comforted.
Every time I entered the room, James would always reach out to squeeze my hands and greeting me with, “well, there’s my pretty girl.”
We enjoyed cookies and chocolate together every visit, yes, every visit as I quickly learned that I couldn’t come in the room without a treat!
We looked at old and new photographs regularly. Roger, whenever he saw your picture and your name escaped his memory, you were affectionately known as the “Ol catbird!”
James let me shave his face, change his clothes, brush his hair, cut up his food, walk with him, tuck him in, and sometimes I would just at the edge of his bed and hold his hand.
He was very protective of and concerned about Etta. He regularly complemented her and always addressed her as “honey”.
If his meal arrived before hers, he would offer to share.
Sure, there were some challenging and confusing moments, but overall, once stabilized, James truly was a picture of peace, contentment, and humility.
I can’t recall a visit that didn’t include a kiss, an exchange of laughter, or some confirmation that waiting 35 years to know him as a grandfather was far better than never at all.
****
James reportedly spoke in his sleep about forgiveness the nights preceding his death. Days prior, He asked me if he could go to Sunday school. The morning of his passing, I heard him tell Etta how pretty she was and that he loved her. And when I greeted him that final day, instead of squeezing my hands and letting go, he held onto them and told me “I sure do love you.”
His nurse, Nakea, told me that hours before his passing, he told her that he would die today. I’m told he said it with confidence and peace- as if to just inform her of what none of us knew. After getting him dressed, he thanked Nikea and blew her a kiss.
****
In closing, I’d like to share part of the msg I wrote on the 2x4 studs of 1926 the day the house was sold. These are the lessons James and Etta have inscribed on my heart ...
Choose love.
Forgive even though you can’t forget.
Be sure to laugh.
Take time to listen.Look beyond fault and find favor.
Cherish family.
Relish in the simplest of pleasures.Welcome each day as an opportunity to determine your legacy.
Knowing James has certainly made a significant impact on my life.
I’m grateful to have known him...
Though bittersweet as it's been…