Monday morning, at about 1 a.m., my grandad passed to the next life. It was my night to spend with him, so, when the nurses notified me that things were coming to an end I had the opportunity of a few moments by myself with him.
By the time the rest
of my family arrived he was no longer responding. But, for just a few minutes, weeping alone by his side, we had a sweet time together as he responded to my words with simple whispers.I told him I loved him and that he was the greatest grandad who ever lived. He whispered that he loved me. I told him that it was ok for him to go and that I would make sure my grandmother was well taken care of. He whispered "yes." Then I just talked about heaven. I talked about Jesus, our only hope and salvation. I told him that he was going to be with Jesus in just a moment; that I was jealous but that I would join him very, very soon. He said, "Amen."
And that was it. For the next 25 minutes or so, as the rest of my family surrounded his bedside and cried, the pneumonia he contracted on Saturday filled his lungs and he stopped breathing. We joined hands around him as my dad led us in a Thanksgiving prayer that will not be outdone at any gathering any where this Thursday.
It's fitting that grandad's last word was "Amen." I'll never forget his voice hollerin' out "Amen." It always sounded to me like he was saying "aaaMAN"--but there was never any doubting what he meant. He meant "let it be." He meant "that's right." He meant "preach it, brother."
Today he is saying "aaaMAN" to the four living creatures and twenty-four elders who continually cry out the greatness and glory of Him who is on the Throne.
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty,
who was and is and is to come.
Worthy are you, our Lord and God,
to recieve glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.
Today, as I think about the life of my grandad--all the sermons he preached, all the souls he witnessed to, all the lives he touched--all I can say is "amen." As I realize that I do not mourn like others do who have no hope, all I can say is "amen." As I mourn my loss and celebrate grandad's gain, all I can say is "amen." As I celebrate Thanksgiving minus one who has always been a big part of it, all I can say is "amen." As I think about the day that will come when I will join grandad around the throne of God, all I can say is "aaaMAN."
