Today would have been my sweet grandaddy Tatum's 83rd birthday. We lost him two years ago and I've missed him so much since then. I am very fortunate to have had all my grandparents live into my late 20's, I know, but sometimes it seems unfair because I know more and more what I'm missing now! Anyhow, I'm grateful that the Lord let me have so much time with him.
As I reflect on my precious grandfather and how much he meant to me, I think of several things:
- his unending unconditional love for my grandmother
- trips to Disney World
- his laugh
- watching Wylie Coyote on Saturday mornings
- steak and potato lunches every Sunday
- his place at the head of their dinner table
- annual summer trips to Pickwick, TN
- his handwritten birthday cards
- his comforting hugs
- "pretty is as pretty does"
- his conducting the orchestra on the radio instead of keeping two hands on the wheel!
Most of all, though, I remember that he never missed a Sunday at church. He was there every time the doors were open - not because he felt he had to be, but because he worshipped with fellow believers whenever the opportunity was presented. I used to be so excited when he was the deacon to say the offertory prayer or the benediction. I would smile proudly as if everyone in the room knew he was MY grandad and as if they wanted him to be their's!
Those days are over now, and I miss him to this day, but I don't ever regret the time I had with him for any reason. His wise words still resound so often in my head.
Thank you, Lord, for grandparents.