Two Years With Jesus

Mom reminded me this morning that today marks two years since my Grandpa Richardson, her daddy, went to be with Jesus. That makes this is one of those happy/sad days that makes me want to remember him.

Grandpa was a extra-special kind of grandpa, the kind who was a whiz at rhymes and silly poems, liked grape juice with ice in the afternoons and watched Jeopardy every day. He also was a pastor for over 50 years and had shelves upon shelves of commentaries that were well-used and smelled like old books. I have some of those books on the shelves in my home, and I always remember him when I see them.

Since I miss my grandpa, I thought I'd share some of my favorite Grandpa memories with you.

When I was about five my dad took me on a special trip. We got to go along with Grandpa to a small church somewhere in the boonies of Iowa to pick up a player piano for Grandpa to refinish. It seemed like the longest car ride of my entire life, and when we finally got to the church to pick up the piano, it was in horrible condition. I worried that maybe my grandpa had met his match and wouldn't be able to fix this one. But sure enough, he did. It's in the family room at my parents house right now...and when all us kids go home we put rolls and sing "The Old Spinning Wheel" with gusto.

Grandpa used to amuse us kids after dinner with silly poems and stories. My sister's favorite is "There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly" but my personal favorite is "You Must Pay The Rent". I think Aunt Ginny got Grandpa on video doing "You Must Pay The Rent" (napkin and all!) but I'm not sure about the fly one. In any case, nobody could tell goofy stories or make up silly poems like my grandpa!

Grandpa had the coolest hair. Sometimes, if we were very, very good, he'd let us comb it and put barrettes all over it. I can't believe he let us do that, but that just goes to show how very patient my grandpa was. I'm not sure that he let anyone photograph him like that, though. It was my favorite thing to do when I was a little girl. My cousins and I called it "Messing Grandpa Up," and that's exactly what he looked like when we were done with him.

When Grandpa and Grandma moved to Cedar Rapids, we used to see them once a week. We'd mow the lawn (Grandma would always come out to make sure we didn't miss any spots) and when we were done, grandma had glasses of ice-cold juice waiting for us. Grandpa liked grape juice and cranberry juice. If mom was late to pick us up, we'd sit there and watch Jeopardy with them (or Wheel of Fortune if it was getting really late) and Grandpa always knew the right answers.

Every year for our birthdays after they moved to Cedar Rapids, Grandpa and Grandma would either make us a special meal, or take us out for Taco Bell or something. I always thought it was cute that no matter where we went, Grandpa and Grandma always split a meal. Always.

I remember the very last sermon Grandpa preached - it was at Galilee Baptist Church. Can't remember how old I was, but I remember being there and wearing a skirt. Over the years different people have given me old tapes of Grandpa preaching and I love listening to them. One one tape he sings, too, (must have been special music that day maybe?) and I'm really glad somebody had the foresight to record it!

When I was in college on break, Grandpa and I were in the family room at my parents' house. I was studying and I think he was watching Jeopardy. Greek had been giving me a terrible time and I was so frustrated that I couldn't even remember some simple words. I was sitting there on the floor, tapping my pencil fiercely against my notebook when I suddenly burst out, "Grandpa! I am losing it, I can't remember the Greek word for 'church' right now!" Grandpa sat there quietly for a few moments and I thought he hadn't heard me. But out of the blue he said quietly, "It's εκκλησία." Of course it was.

As Grandpa started having more trouble with his Parkinson's, he didn't talk as much and he didn't joke as much...but we sure knew Grandpa loved us. Daddy would always ask Grandpa to pray when we saw them for dinner, and I always loved to hear my Grandpa pray. Somehow when he was talking to God, even as he became more of an observer rather than a participant, he blossomed. It was clear that Grandpa loved Jesus and somehow, talking to Him was the easiest thing he could do.

My very last memory of my Grandpa is on Easter Sunday, 2006. My whole family was there, the Johnsons, Aunt Mary and Gerry, Ginny and Jim...it was fun; more people than I had expected to come for Easter lunch! Grandpa was quiet that day, but when Daddy asked him to pray, he prayed so fervently and clearly that it brought tears to my eyes.

On that next Tuesday, Mom called to say that Grandpa had gone to be with Jesus.

My Grandpa's funeral was a celebration of a life spent serving Jesus. Someone sang "Finally Home" and it was a great reminder of where Grandpa is - with Jesus! There was a slideshow at the end of the service...someone had found one of those old tapes of Grandpa singing special music and had it playing behind pictures of Grandpa with his children and grandchildren. My favorite part was in the middle of the song on the tape when Grandpa forgot the words he was supposed to sing next. It was nice to have a giggle and remember what fun Grandpa was.

I definitely miss my sweet Grandpa, but I'm thankful that he's "Finally Home".