All That Matters

I remember his laugh.
So hard that no sound came out.  Then he would take out his hankie and wipe the tears from his eyes. 

I remember his hugs.
I can still feel the eye glasses and pens in his shirt pocket.

I remember his sense of humor.
"Just look at this mess I've started!" He would say and then feign disgust as we all filed in his house for a family gathering.

I remember the stories.
So outrageous, yet he had us believing.

I remember the fishing.
Hours on end.  Getting "skunked" sometimes, but most often getting "keepers."

I remember his favorite chair.
The one where he sat when he couldn't catch his breath.


I remember his last call.
I was at work.  Why wasn't I there? 
He didn't miss one game, one birthday, one anything.  Why wasn't I there?
I think he called all of us, though we've never spoken of it.
It was in the final hours, one foot already in heaven.
I couldn't understand a word of what he said to me.
But I knew.

"I love you Tami.
Live your life for the Lord.
That's all that matters."

I was silent amidst the tears.
Only squeaking out an "I love you Grandpa."  Why couldn't I tell him?
He meant the world to me.
There was no one like him.
Nor will there ever be.

Words.
They don't come easy when they will be your last spoken to someone.
But I will always be grateful for that call.
Nothing understood, yet understanding.

I looked through his Bible when I was at home.
This is what I found.

I can't wait to see him again. 
I can't wait to see the smile on his face when he meets the "mess I started."