I'll never forget that weekend. It's one of those events in your life where time seems to slow and you are able to take in and remember details that you usually don't. It was an answer to prayer, but certainly not the outcome we were asking for.
Monday of that week, Poppop had been taken to the hospital. He had been battling lupus and a really bad back for years and he just wasn't feeling well. By Friday, he was getting worse and we were all praying for God to heal him and bring him home. On Saturday, all the grandkids who did not live close enough to visit earlier in the week were able to make it to the hospital and Poppop was surrounded by the people that mattered most to him in the world...his family.
Sunday rolled around and we knew his homecoming wasn't going to be to the house he had built for Granny so many years ago. God would honor and answer our prayers to heal Poppop and bring him home--but not here on this earth. Surrounded by his wife of 61 years, his three children and their spouses, myself and my husband as well as one of his childhood friends, Poppop answered the call by the Master Carpenter to come home.
It's hard to believe that tomorrow will be seven years since my Poppop was transferred to Heaven. He had had many heath issues throughout his life, but it never slowed him down. Farmer, fisherman, father, husband, grandfather, friend...the list could go on. He always had a smile and a joke and charged you a nickel (but he never collected).
Many people have had a profound influence on my life and have shaped me to become the woman I am today. But none had the spiritual influence that he had. And every time I see fireworks, I am reminded of that weekend so many years ago...that there was a celebration in Heaven as Poppop was reunited with family and friends that had gone on before and that one day there will be no more tears and heartache but only joy and peace as we spend eternity together with our Lord.