Memories of Grandpa...

Today our family is mourning the loss of a great man. Aidan's great-grandfather passed away early this morning.

Aidan kept his great-grandpa company in the hospital on Monday night and we were lucky enough to get some pictures of the two of them. We were also able to get pictures of Grandpa and all of the grandchildren, minus one (Aidan's Uncle Corey, who lives in Utah).

Please keep him in your prayers as he begins his journey into Heaven. We know he has some very special people waiting to greet him, including Aidan's big brother Michael.

Following is a tribute that I will read at the funeral service. I'd like to share some memories of this wonderful man...

"Great people don’t really die – they live on in our memories. Joseph Hendricks is one of those great people. He was more than just a grandfather to his grandchildren. Over the years, among other things, he’s been a babysitter, a fishing partner, a breakfast date, a teacher, and most importantly, a friend.

The memories I have of the time I spent with him are, of course, precious to me. Every year, we would have a large family get-together on the Fourth of July. Grandma and Grandpa had three children and seven grandchildren, plus children and grandchildren’s spouses and, recently, great-grandchildren, so our annual Fourth of July picnics were an instant party! Grandpa, of course, was always the center of the party, which is where he was happiest.

I can only imagine how tiring it would be to entertain and play with so many grandchildren, but Grandpa loved it! I distinctly remember, as a very young girl, spending time with Grandpa on the pier at Fairhaven Park, him teaching me how to fish. Even with seven grandchildren, he always had a way of making each and every one feel like they had his undivided attention.

I remember Grandpa and my weekly trips to the allergist’s office, where I would get an allergy shot. But it isn’t the shot that remains in my memory, it’s the hot fudge sundae that Grandpa and I would share afterwards. Grandpa always told the girl behind the counter that we both “deserved” extra hot fudge because I had to get a shot. Then, when we were eating, he’d tell me that I better not drink anything because I had holes in my arms and the liquid would come shooting out the holes in my arms!

I also remember having many a breakfast with Grandpa. He loved to flirt with the waitresses, always asking for a little “something extra” in his coffee. He also liked to joke with the waitresses, telling them that he didn’t “order” the check. One particular waitress played along with his joke, taking the check back. Grandpa really got a kick out of it and loved to tell that story.

As grandchildren, we all remember our fishing outings with Grandpa that we enjoyed so much. We also remember how Grandpa used to call the fitness center that Grandma went to the “Fat Farm.” He loved to make us laugh, and this was a surefire way to do just that.

Grandpa was very much a story teller. The fun part about his stories, though, was that they were all true. He loved to talk about his travels, he was so proud that he and Grandma visited all of the states with the exception of Alaska. Of course, his very favorite destination was Las Vegas. He could sit and talk about Vegas for hours on end. He also enjoyed talking about his time in the war – his leave time when he was able to visit Holland during “tulip” season. He always urged me to travel whenever I could and I try to heed his advice as much as I can.

But it isn’t the things I did with Grandpa that I remember so much, but he himself. I can picture his enormously bushy eyebrows and the perpetually twinkling eyes beneath them. And Grandpa’s hands – hands that had helped so many people over the years… hands that taught even smaller hands to tie a shoe. Hands that have worked on a farm, on a demolition crew, on his beautiful rose bushes. His hands were worn, and wrinkled with age. The loose skin on the back was peculiar in the fact that if you pinched it gently, it would stay in a little ridge even when you took your fingers away. Patient man that he was, as young children, he would let us sit in his lap for hours, playing with his hands.

One memory stands out above all others for me. Our firstborn son, Michael, passed away almost two years ago. At the burial service, Grandpa hugged me and sobbed uncontrollably. This was the first (and only) time I saw him cry and it was this moment in time that I knew just how much Grandpa loved me. He and I shared a special moment that day and it is one that I will never forget.

We recently celebrated the birth of our second child, another boy. Grandpa recently told me that he was proud of me staying at home with our son, that I was doing a good job raising him and teaching him. I nearly cried. This was one of the compliments I cherish the most because no one had ever given me any sort of positive feedback on my role as a mother and to hear it from Grandpa meant so very much to me.

Not all of the memories of our time together were this grand. I remember a dark time we shared together, a time of hospital stays, and long nights in intensive care rooms. I remember a time when Grandpa was semi-comatose. He was such a fighter – he always pulled through like a champ. In his last months, however, he would cry “I want to go home.” This phrase has stuck in my mind like a nail in a board. He had fought a good fight and he was ready to go. He didn’t want to suffer the ill effects of a failing heart and old age anymore. He wanted to go to a better place.

I had the great privilege of being by Grandpa’s side the night before he went to be with his Lord. When it was time to leave the hospital, I was able to give him one last kiss and tell him how much I love him. While it was a difficult evening, watching his labored breathing slow as the minutes turned into hours, if given the chance, I wouldn’t change a second of it. Each final minute spent with Grandpa was a precious minute that won’t soon be forgotten.

As I look back on the childhood my Grandpa was such a part of, his memory will remain with me as an adult. I can close my eyes and see those bushy eyebrows, that wonderful smile, that twinkle in his eyes. I see myself as a young child, learning the finer points of fishing from Grandpa. I look forward now in my daily life to seeing him again, to seeing him at peace and happy, not in pain, to seeing him glorified by the God he loved and shared with me.

I love you, Grandpa."