written in January 2005 by Hubby

“Similarly, encourage the young men to be self-controlled.  In everything set them an example by doing what is good.”  Titus 2:6-7

My grandpa was the finest living example of how a Christian ought to live his life on this earth.

I have often wondered what I would say about my grandpa at his funeral.  There are so many special memories in my mind that defined my grandpa’s character and shaped my own.  He was a good eldest so, a good husband for more than sixty-six years, and a good father to eleven children.

He was kind and gentle to all people.  He would never second-guess anybody and nobody could ever second-guess him.  Who you saw was who he really was.  He was genuine.  I seldom heard a disparaging word pass through his lips.  He reprimanded me once, but I deserved it.

He was a quiet man for the most part, but he had a lively spirit that shined in his eyes and his smile, and sometimes in other unexpected ways.

Like at breakfast one morning when grandma told grandpa to finish drinking his water.  With the cup in his hand he said, “I’ll spritz you!” and tossed the liquid her way, giving grandma a light shower.

Or another time when my uncle came over and said he would take me fishing at a lake.  Now grandpa loved fishing, and when my uncle invited him to come along, those old legs ran like a little boy to get his fishing pole.

I have memories from when I was much younger of waking up at 4:30 in the morning to hear the garage door opening and my grandpa leaving to do chores.  I wanted to follow him, but sometimes I was afraid I would get in trouble.

A few years later, I would wake up at 5:00 in the morning and go help my uncle do the chores while my grandparents rested,  Then I would come back around 7:00 and have breakfast with them.  Those breakfast times were so special.  Grandpa would always read the Bible aloud and pray before breakfast, until he couldn’t read so well and grandma started doing it.

I have a memory of grandpa and grandma walking out of the room where my mom lay at New York Presbyterian Hospital.  As I looked at their faces, I couldn’t help but think, “those are the saddest people in the world.”  They knew that would be the last time they saw their daughter alive on this earth.

A little less than a year ago, I got a call from my aunt who told me that grandpa was having some serious health issues.  I regretted not spending more time with him during my winter break, and pleaded with God to let me see my grandpa once more.  Praise God, he let me take five visits to see my grandpa in 2004.

My most recent memory of my grandpa was a little more than a week ago, right after Christmas.  I was sitting by the side of his bed in the living room watching him lie there with his eyes closed.  Then he opened his eyes, turned to me and asked with a smile, “You think you can handle a cow?”  That made me so happy.

My grandpa wasn’t perfect.  For one thing he couldn’t sing very well.  But what does that matter now?  He’s in the midst of a heaven;y choir.  He served God for 90 years and has arrived at the beginning of eternity.

Dedicated to Atlee W. Weaver: June 4, 1914 – January 5, 2005


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