My Grandpa knew how to make lemonade out of lemons. He never had much money but that never kept my siblings and I from wanting to go to his and grandma’s house. We learned how to tie rocks to handkerchiefs with string, throw them high into the air and imagine that they were paratroopers. We saw how some odd and end boards and some wheels could quickly be cut and attached to make a motorless go-cart. We didn’t need the motor. The hill behind Grandpa’s house worked just fine. These are just a few of the ways that Grandpa showed us how to make the most of what you’ve got to work with: a lesson easily applicable to all of life.
My Grandpa knew how to exude a positive persona that comforted and cheered those who happened to be around him. As an adult, I can look back on some of the situations I saw my grandparents in and know that it must have been horribly stressful. Yet, my Grandpa was never without a song in his heart that often came out in the form of a peppy whistle tune. In fact, my Grandpa was the janitor for Bible Baptist Church in Clarksville , Tennessee for all of my formative years. The building was fairly large, at least to a young child. But when we wanted to find him somewhere in the facilities, all we had to do was get quiet for a few moments … and listen for the whistling. (Being a janitor may seem like a menial job to some. However, as far as I was concerned, my Grandpa elevated the job.)
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As I grew older and my love for the Scriptures developed, I also outgrew the bedtime stories. But another of Grandpa’s traits continued to influence me to value God’s Word more and more. Thirty or so years later, I can still see my Grandpa sitting in his recliner in the living room with his Bible open upon his lap as he read and studied it. He did this day after day after day. And now, years later, I enjoy doing the same thing. (The only difference is that he had a physical Bible. I use an electronic Bible with a computer on my lap.)
There are so many memories and lessons I could mention but I’ll close with my final memory of him. It was in January 1991 that I received a call in Lexington , Kentucky saying that Grandpa had just suffered a massive heart attack. I made the necessary arrangements with work and college and then drove the 7 hours to the ICU unit at the hospital in Cape Girardeau , Missouri .
I had been blessed to that point never to have suffered the loss of a family member as close as Grandpa. For that reason, it seemed surreal. I loved him dearly and knew that he was not doing well but just couldn’t fathom that it was his time to go.
As his family began to gather, loved ones made their way back to the ICU in twos to spend time with him. I went back with one of my uncles and noticed that he was sedated and seemed to be only mildly coherent. I stood beside his bed and my eyes were bringing me to grips with how serious my Grandpa's condition really was. I thought back on many of the memories I had enjoyed with this man and prayed that he would make it through this.
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I dearly loved my Grandpa and think of him often, celebrating the wonderful memories he left behind. I am comforted in the knowledge that we will be reunited one day in the presence of the Lord for eternity. And I just wonder if when I arrive in Heaven, God will say, “Matt, your Grandpa is here. See if you can find him.” All I will have to do is stop for a moment, get quiet ... and listen for the whistling.