For Grampa Beck

The last two weeks have been hard.

My Grandpa Beck went into the hospital two weeks ago on Thursday. A week ago today, around 3 a.m., he passed into the arms of his Savior, surrounded by those he loved the most. He was 90 years old.

Though we knew the end was near, the letting go has been so hard.

He was such a good, precious man.

People have said to me in the days following his death that he lived a good, long life, as though somehow that should make our pain less.

In some ways, they are right.

He lived a good, long life.

He was born in 1922 and grew up helping his dad farm between school.

When he was 20 years old, he was drafted. He served our country in WWII, fought in the Battle of the Bulge and was wounded there, and earned a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star.

He came home from war and married my gramma. Their anniversary is next month. They made it just shy of 67 years. 67 years.

They had three sons--the middle son is my daddy.

Three sons. Seven grandchildren. 15 great-grandchildren.

A faithful member of his church for 52 years.

He lived a good, long life. But there is so much more to him than that. So much more I will miss.

I will miss him being there. Because he always was, he and Gramma, as long as they were able. Between my cousin Brandon and myself, there were 8th grade promotions and high school graduations every year for 10 years. They never missed one ceremony. They came to our wedding. To Elaina's dedication and her first birthday party. To Ellie's dedication.

Sometimes I would ask, "How are you feeling, Grampa?" And he responded honestly, "Not too great. But I'm here!"

He always, always was.

I will miss how he took the time to make us feel special. I remember telling him on my wedding day how much I loved the lavendar shirt and tie he was wearing. When Jeremy got married the next summer, Grampa wore his tie again. I was so excited and told him it was my favorite. He said, "I know. That's why I wore it." He wore it again to Elaina's dedication. And to Rachel's wedding. It was a simple striped lavendar tie. But it was a tie he wore just for me.

I will miss his laugh, which often teetered this side of mischevious. When I was in college and would come home and visit, we'd often pass an afternoon playing dominoes. I don't think anything brought him more joy than deliberatly messing up one of our trains, particularly Gramma's. She'd let out with an exasperated "Dean Franklin!" and he would just chuckled to himself, and soon his chuckle would catch on to the rest of us and we'd all be laughing. He chuckled the same chuckle when he teased me about "cutting my cat's tail off behind his ears." I thought for awhile he was afraid I'd be a crazy cat lady. And then I met Josh, and he still said it, and still laughed to himself at my exaggerated reactions.

I will miss his tenacity. Grampa Beck was, without question, the toughest person I have ever known. He accepted life as it came to him, whether it be war or illness or old age, and faced it head on. He never, ever complained. And he never stopped fighting. The last three days of his life were so hard, and so many times when we thought we had said our last goodbyes, he'd pull through again. I think he wanted to give each of us a chance to really say goodbye. I think he wanted us to know how much he loved us. I think he wanted us to tell him how much we loved him. He gave us an opportunity to love on him each in our own ways, and I will always be thankful to have had an opportunity to be there, to share in those moments, to whisper in his ear and kiss his cheek and hold his hand. They were the some of the hardest, holiest moments of my life.

And right now, more than anything, I will miss his hugs.They were good hugs, strong and sweet. They said what words could not. And they always smelled of Old Spice. They stayed with me all day, and by simply moving my arm in a certain way I could tell I had been loved by my Grampa. Oh, how I miss his hugs.

Loving him was a privilege. Being loved by him was a blessing beyond words.

People say he lived a good, long life so that maybe we won't hurt as much. They remind us he is with his Savior now, and I know it is true. I am thankful, so very thankful, for that.

But a precious, beautiful, good man is gone. And that is why our hearts are broken.